Star Trek: Shifting Sands
by BeautifulDevil
Summary: Tasha Lawrence has lived on her own for the past ten years and that's how she likes it. When she stows away on the Enterprise, though, she gets more than she bargained for. Will she finally be able to learn how to trust, or will a secret ruin everything?
1. Chapter 1

_STAR TREK: Shifting Sands_

_CHAPTER 1_

I quickly looked around and then darted into the brightly-lit corridor. It was empty, as I had expected, but I had no way of knowing how long it would stay that way. On a ship as large as this, no area would stay clear for long.

Quickly walking along the hallway, I read the door numbers. A few seconds later, I paused and hit a few buttons on the panel. Apparently, I had found the one that I was looking for. The door slid open with a _whoosh_ and I stepped inside.

Once inside the darkened room, I glanced around. Quickly, my eyes grew wide as I surveyed my surroundings. Something was wrong. The area was much larger than I had expected, and was furnished with couches and a table, among other things. Through the large windows, I could see the space station and the stars beyond. Slowly, the reality dawned on me: I was in the wrong room. I was in somebody's quarters.

Trying to fight down panic, I closed her eyes and remembered the map of the ship that I had acquired. It had clearly marked this room as a storage cabinet, of that I was sure. I had planned my entire strategy around this room.

I cursed the man who had sold me the statistics; the Napean had obviously known that they were incorrect. Right now, however, revenge was the least of my problems. At the top of my list was getting out of here without being thrown in the brig, or worse. I had heard that Federation officers weren't as harsh as Cardassians or Romulans, for example, but I wasn't quite ready to test that theory.

I hurriedly turned back toward the door. I never made it out. As I was approaching it, I heard voices from outside. Then the door began to slide open. Panic filled me, and I did the first thing that came into my mind. Without warning, I was gone. In my place sat a yellow, tiger-striped cat.

The door opened, and behind it stood two men.

"The diagnostic won't be done until at least...1900," stated one of the men. "There's not much we can do until it's complete."

"Alright, but the Captain won't like it if it holds up our departure."

"I'll do the best I can, but if some of the relays are fried it'll take until tonight to fix."

"Just do the best you can."

"Yes, sir."

One of the men departed, but the other turned and entered the quarters. Slowly, the cat–me–retreated, the fur on its back raising as it did so.

It was then that the man noticed me. Staring at me, he stopped walking.

"What the hell?" he asked. I stared up at him. He was just as, if not more, surprised as I was. This gave me some small degree of comfort. I was still terrified of him, but I had a greater change of getting away if he was caught off-guard as well.

"How'd you get in here?" he asked, crouching down so he was closer to me. I hissed at him, and continued to back away. My mind was cycling through options, dismissing each as it came along. I could attack him and dart out, but he looked strong and he would probably end up hurting me. I could always turn into some microscopic creature and get away that way, but the last thing that I needed was for them to know that there was a shape-shifter on board. Right now, I was just a cat.

The man paused, studying me. I studied him back. I decided that he was in his mid-thirties, but his age was hard to guess. He had a short beard around his face. As my eyes moved down to his clothing, I started. The man had three complete pips on his collar, marking his rank as Commander. With all likelihood, he was the first officer of this ship.

As I studied the man, I assessed my situation. Experience had taught me not to trust anyone, and I wasn't about to let my guard down now. This man was a complication in my already shaky plan, a potentially fatal one.

Slowly, the man reached his hand toward me. I backed away slightly, unsure as to his intentions. He stopped a few inches from me, his face unsure.

Realizing what he was doing, I gently sniffed his hand. It was what was expected, and one could actually learn a lot about a person because of his smell. He smelled like a mixture of soap and some sort of cologne. It was actually pleasant. Also, he smelled faintly of fear. Not the terror that came with fear for one's life, but another kind of fear. Of me?

I backed away, and the man withdrew his hand. He looked slightly relieved, like he had passed some sort of test. I might have laughed if I hadn't been so frightened, and if I hadn't been a cat. This man had obviously never been around cats before, or at least not very nice ones. That was why he was afraid.

"Well, at least you're not like Spot," the Commander said. "What's your name anyway?"

I acted like I didn't understand, which was something that had become very good at. I'd had practice. Plus, it didn't exactly matter if he knew what my real name was, which happened to be Tasha.

"Your fur looks like..." the Commander paused, gazing at me. A strange look entered his eyes. A moment later, he said, "I think I'll call you Tasha."

I started despite herself. How did he know that? He wasn't a Betazoid, I knew that because of my research of the ship's crew, and even if he had been, I had had much practice shielding my mind from them.

"Don't you like it? Well, I guess you won't be staying here long enough to learn it. I'm going to find out where you came from."

The Commander stood up. I backed away, watching for his next move. He didn't seem like an exactly volatile individual, but you never could tell. He could still try to hurt me.

I continued to watch him as he sat down at the table and started to research something on a data pad. A few minutes later he looked up at her, obviously perturbed. I stepped back slightly, readying herself to flee.

"Are you scared of me?" the Commander asked, smiling and frowning at the same time. I didn't move. The Commander leaned down from the chair until he was near the floor. He held out his hand to me again. "Come on," he said.

I paused, my mind still working. Slowly, against my better judgment and everything my mind was telling me, I stepped towards the man.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he said. Maybe he was telling the truth. Human seemed to have more love for animals than, say, Klingons or Cardassians.

I continued to slowly walk towards him. I paused just out of his reach, still staring at him. I had never before been in such a compromising position with someone. True, I had been in multiple brigs, but this was different. There, I hadn't had a choice on what to do. Here, I had a decision to make: whether to trust this man or not.

Making up my mind, I quickly darted past the man and climbed up on his couch. From there, I could watch him without being near him.

"Well, you're not from this deck," he said, rising and returning to his computer. If I would have had to name the expression on his face, I would have called it disappointment. Well, it wasn't my fault that he had a low self-esteem when it came to cats. "So unless you know how to use a turbolift, I'd say that you have to be from the station."

I stopped, assessing this new turn of events. It would be relatively easy to find out that no one on the station had a cat matching my description, or at least not one that was missing. And then he would begin to wonder. What would I do then?

I'd be gone by then. He'd think that I'd gotten out the same way that I'd gotten in. And he wouldn't go looking for me, of that I was sure. Why should he?

Just then the doorbell rang. I stiffened, my fur rising again as I stood. The Commander rose and crossed the room to the door, which opened.

A white man stood there. His skin wasn't the usual peach color of those we call white, it was actually white. He looked like an albino except for his eyes, which were a dull shade of yellow. His uniform was yellow, and the pips on his collar marked him as a Lieutenant Commander.

I immediately recognized him as Data, the only android in Starfleet. The only android in existence. I had heard of him often, sometimes in a good light and sometimes in a bad. As bad mostly by enemies, or at least not allies, of the Federation.

"Commander, I was wondering if you would be attending my poetry reading tomorrow tonight," the android asked, standing stiffly in the doorway.

"Of course, Data," the Commander said. I could tell by his expression that he was bluffing. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Thank you, Commander, I appreciate you attending."

The Commander smiled and slapped the android, Data, on the back. "My pleasure, Data."

"Thank you, sir." Data turned to go.

"Wait a minute, Data," the Commander said. He turned towards me. I froze, wondering what this had to do with me. "This cat showed up in my quarters a little while ago, and I can't figure out where it came from. I was wondering if you could keep it until I find out who it belongs to. I'm not much of a cat person, and I thought that it could keep Spot company."

"I would be happy to take it," Data said. He approached me, and I backed up slightly. I had no desire to go with this man, just as I had no desire to stay here. From where I was now, I knew how to get back to the station. I didn't even know where Data's quarters were.

As Data approached, I hissed sharply, baring my teeth as I did so. I knew that I couldn't hurt an android, but maybe he wouldn't take me if I didn't want to go.

I was right. Data paused and turned to the Commander, who was standing by his side.

"I do not believe that she wishes to come with me," he said.

"Yeah," the Commander said, pushing his hand through his hair. "Well, she doesn't want to stay here either. I think she's just scared."

"Perhaps it would be best not to move her," Data said.

The Commander sighed, and I mentally did as well. I was beginning to believe that I wasn't in danger, at least not as long as they thought that I was a cat, and I started to relax a little. I could escape sometime in the night, or when the Commander left. It might arouse suspicion, but it would soon be forgotten.

"I guess I can replicate a sand box," the Commander said, "and a cat bed."

"Spot prefers Cat Supplement Number 8," Data suggested.

"Thanks, Data. I'll call you if I need any help."

Data nodded and left. The Commander turned back to me.

"I guess this means you're staying, at least for the night," he said.

I guess it does, I thought. Now that part of the danger had passed, I settled down on the couch and watched the Commander. He watched me.

He was uneasy, I could tell. Not only from the way he was acting, which was shifting ever-so-slightly from side to side, but also from the way he smelled. Cats can smell an extraordinary range of emotions, and unease is among them.

"Alright," he said finally. "I don't know much about cats, and the only one I do know is a vicious monster. I'll try to feed you regularly and get whatever else you need, but if I don't then don't attack me. Okay?"

I wondered if this man spoke to all animals like this. Then again, I wondered if he was ever around animals. Well, I might as well make a good impression. And by "good impression" I mean to stay out of his way and sight, and leave within twelve hours.

Crossing the room, the Commander picked up a book and sat down on a chair across the room. I remained where I was, and began to assess my situation.

The Commander wouldn't hurt me: of that I was relatively sure. The human Starfleet personnel who I had met all seemed like decent, if not kind, people. Or at least not the type of people who would hurt cats. This man seemed so uncomfortable with our situation that I doubted that he would even come near me. As long as I kept my identity secret, I should be able to sneak out later. I settled in for a long and uncomfortable wait. The main thing was to keep my identity secret.

Several long hours later, the Commander stood up.

"Computer, what time is it?" he asked as he stretched

"1800," the computer replied.

The Commander set his book aside, and walked over to a replicator. I realized it was dinnertime.

I hadn't eaten since early that morning, but I hadn't noticed hunger. When you're in the business that I'm in, which is being a stowaway, you tend to go hungry more often than not. I don't really notice it anymore.

Looking up, I saw the Commander taking some kind of sandwich out of the replicator. He turned towards me, stopped, then turned back to the replicator.

"Cat Supplement Number 8," he said. A bowl of discolored brown...stuff appeared in the replicator and the Commander, after staring at it for a moment, set it on the floor next to the replicator. Then he replicated a bowl of water, a cat bed, and a sand box.

Great, I thought. I would definitely not be using that.

The Commander returned to the chair and started to eat. I watched him.

I was beginning to learn things about this man, just by watching him. One, he definitely lived alone, and always had. The way his quarters looked told the first. Also, he was rather...manish. This might seem like an obvious observation, but it is a well-known fact that some men are more manish than others. This man walked with a kind of swagger, and he had a beard.

There were other things that I noticed, from the way he smelled.

The Commander looked up at me, and stopped. I realized that I was staring at him. Something about cats made it rather unnerving to be stared at by them. I quickly looked away.

"LaForge to Commander Riker," a voice said. I started, quickly rising to my feet. The fact that I had decided that I wasn't in immediate danger didn't make me less skittish. There were still plenty things to be afraid of.

The Commander tapped his badge.

"Riker here."

"Commander, we're done with the diagnostic. It turns out that one of the phase coil inverters went bad. We'll have it replaced within the hour."

The Commander nodded. "Good job, Geordi. Keep me updated. Riker out."

He hit the badge again. I settled back into my seat, my legs folded beneath me. It was actually very comfortable being a cat. For me, at least, it had always been better than being a Sandorian. Which was good, because it was going to be a very long day.


	2. Chapter 2

_CHAPTER 2_

For the next two hours, I sat there in a slight stupor. I was used to sitting alone for long periods of time, that's what stowaways do, but that didn't make it any less boring. Plus, I wasn't alone. I was with Commander William T. Riker, the famed first officer of the Enterprise. I had heard about him many times, but I had never thought that I would meet him. Much less be sitting face to face with him in his quarters with him thinking I was a rather frightened and hostile cat.

The Commander's com badge buzzed again and I started. It was Geordi LaForge, the same man who had called earlier. The repairs had apparently gone faster than planned, and the ship was ready to depart.

The Commander was obviously glad to hear the news. I wasn't too sure how I felt. I was glad that we would be leaving soon because that meant that I could get off this ship all the sooner. But I had also somewhat hoped that I could return to the station. Someone on board knowing I was there was not something that I had planned on, and it would have been much easier to find another ship to get on.

Too late now.

I might as well make myself comfortable, I thought. I hadn't eaten the food yet, mainly because I hadn't wanted to move. I didn't want to take my eyes off Riker.

At this point I was starving, though, and I doubted that Riker would suddenly go off his head and attack me. Klingon, maybe. Starfleet, no.

I jumped off the couch and headed over to the replicator. Carefully, I sniffed the food. True, it was only a bowl of brown slop, but it smelled like beef. And I was starving. I'd eaten worse.

I carefully licked it. Then, I began to eat it, painfully aware of how disgusting I probably looked. That was the one good thing about being a Sandorian, or any other humanoid species: we had hands. Cats just had to make do.

Once I had eaten most of the slop and drunk some water, I settled into the cat bed. It was actually very comfortable. Looking up, I saw Riker watching me.

He no longer looked, or smelled, as uncomfortable as he had before. Maybe he was starting to get used to me, or maybe the fact that I was now acting more catlike comforted him. Whichever, he was definitely more at ease.

This made me feel better. The less suspicious he was, the easier it would be for me to sneak out. It was around 2100 now, which meant that Riker should be going to bed within one or two hours. Then I could leave.

Another hour later, Riker rose and disappeared into another room, which I was assumed was the bathroom. When he returned, he went into the bedroom and began to get undressed. I quickly closed my eyes as I had no desire whatsoever to see Riker in any state of undress. I opened my eyes around five minutes later. Riker was now wearing blue pajamas, and was climbing into bed.

"Computer, turn off the lights," he said. The lights immediately went off. It took my eyes several minutes to try to adjust. There was a little light coming out of the replicator, and with my cat eyes I was able to see again.

"Goodnight, Tasha," Riker murmured. I paused, a funny feeling filling me. It had been a long, long time since anyone had ever told me goodnight, and even longer since they had used my real name. Riker had somehow known my name. I closed my eyes, reveling in the feeling. I actually felt like I kind of belonged.

I allowed myself a minute or so, and then I opened my eyes again. I needed to focus. In order to open the door I needed to go back to my normal form, which meant that Riker had to be in a deep sleep. I didn't know how long it would take him to fall asleep, but I had to wait at least forty-five minutes to be on the safe side. Maybe longer.

I allowed myself to slip into a slight doze. I was tired, and it wouldn't be good if I were tired as I made my escape. I knew that I wouldn't sleep more than an hour, and my cat ears would alert me if anyone, or anything, moved inside the room.

An hour later, I awoke from my nap. Blinking my eyes, I quickly cleared my head and forgot my dreams.

Awaking completely, I listened for Riker. In the silence of the room, I could hear his easy breathing. It was deep and steady, and he was obviously asleep. Rising from my cat bed, I stepped out of it and made my way toward the door. Once there, and out of sight of Riker's bed, I quickly transformed back into my regular body. It felt good.

My Sandorian shape is one of a young twenty-six year old with wavy, golden blond hair that reaches past my shoulders. I am around 5" 6' tall, and have a slight build. At the moment, I was wearing long black pants and a black shirt. There wasn't any reason to take an extra risk of being seen. My feet were bare, as I would make less noise that way.

Carefully approaching the door, I listened again for Riker. He was still asleep. I stepped toward the door, and it sprung open with a _whooshing_ sound. Light from the corridor immediately filled the room. I was sure that Riker would awake any minute, so I quickly looked up and down the corridor. It was empty. I stepped forward one step.

Suddenly, a crewman rounded the corridor. I jerked back inside, and flattened myself against the wall as the door shut again.

Steadying my breathing, I readied myself to try again. It was late at night, and the odds that someone else would be passing by were slight. At least, I hoped they were.

"Who's there?" a voice said. I froze, and quieted my breathing. Riker was awake. "Computer, lights," he said. As the lights came on, I immediately returned to my cat shape. I was grateful that the door was out of sight of the bed; it gave me a few extra seconds.

A very tired and aggravated looking Riker came walking around the corner. He was blinking heavily, and was obviously having a hard time seeing. He looked at the door, and then lowered his gaze to me. Confusion flitted across his face; apparently he had forgotten I was there.

I stared back at him.

He sighed, obviously annoyed at having had to get up because of a cat. "What are you doing up?" he asked. "Computer, program the door so cats can't open it."

I frowned (as much as a cat can). So I could have opened the door while in my cat form? It would have been nice to know that earlier.

"Computer, turn off the lights."

The lights immediately went off, and I heard Riker returning to bed.

"Go back to bed, cat," he said as he climbed back in.

Only then did my breathing and heart rate return to near normal. That had been close, too close. The crewman could have easily seen me, and Riker could have woken a few seconds earlier and seen me in my Sandorian form.

I realized that I couldn't try to get out again, for that night, at least. I would have to get out the next day. No, that wouldn't work either. I couldn't just stroll out of Riker's quarters, not in the middle of the day when people were sure to be around. I may be paranoid, but it was what had kept me alive for the past nine years. The next night was the soonest that I could hope to get out.

I paused, considering this new dangerous turn of events. I had been willing to risk being Riker's cat for half a day, but I didn't know if I could do it for all of the next day. It was dangerous.

I couldn't get out during the day as someone would probably catch me. If I got out during the night, Riker would probably hear me and would later think that I had just somehow gotten around the lock. He would think it was odd, but I doubted that he would worry too much about it. It wasn't like he cared for cats.

The only option was to stay in Riker's quarters all day and pretend to be a cat. It would be hard as I didn't normally allow anyone to see me when I wasn't in my Sandorian form. Also, there was a danger that Riker would begin to research where I came from.

It would be safer to just disappear.

But there was another part of me that had an opinion, a part other than my brain and my instincts. It had been a long time since anyone had accepted me and, even though Riker thought that I was a cat, he had been willing to let me stay. It might sound rather pitiful, but this was the closest thing that I had had to a home in a long, long time.

Slowly, I walked over to the couch and climbed onto the back of it. From there, I stared out of the stars.

No matter how many times I rode on a ship, I could never get over the beauty of stars streaking past while the ship was in warp. It was mesmerizing, and calming. Perhaps it was the fact that I had spent so much staring up at the stars while I was young, and dreaming that I was up there instead of on Sandor.

I jumped down from the couch and went to the bed. I didn't want to think about my past. I had spent my life stowing away on ships to distant destinations just to get away from it. I quickly closed my eyes and focused on falling into a light sleep.

I did sleep, eventually, but it didn't take me away from memories.

_I was five and had just found my first friend._ _He was seven, and had the blackest hair that I had ever seen. His eyes were a bright green, and seemed to shine even when it was dark. I had met him in the park, in my secret spot. At least, I thought that it was secret until I had gone there and found this boy serenely sitting in my tree with his feet hanging in my stream._

"_That's my seat," I told him after I had recovered from my childlike sense of shock and anger, as if someone had just stolen my favorite toy._

_The boy turned._

"_No it's not, it's mine," he said._

"_I discovered it," I said, as if this settled everything._

_He shook his head, while I put my hands on my hips. My fighting pose._

"_Well, we could share it," he suggested carefully. I paused, considering this new development. Share it? Was that possible?_

"_Well...maybe," I said. "But you have to promise not to tell anyone about it!"_

"_Promise," the boy said solemnly. _

"_Cross you heart?" I asked. No one would dare to break such a promise._

"_Cross my heart."_

"_Good," I grinned. "I'm Tasha."_

"_I'm Brandon," the boy said, hopping down. _

"_I like you hair," I said. I'd always been kind of socially inept._

_From then on we were friends._

Jerking awake, I jumped to my feet and wildly looked around the room, trying to find the source of the noise that had awoken me. I was in quarters of some sort, and I didn't recognize them. I was also out in the open, which was something that I normally never let happen. After scanning for a few seconds, I saw Riker standing on the other side of the room playing a musical contraption. I remembered where I was. Everything was alright.

Relaxing, and mentally berating myself for panicking, I sat back down. There was no need to panic. I wasn't in any immediate danger.

Riker looked over at me, and let out a small laugh as he lowered the instrument from his mouth.

"Sorry, cat, I didn't think about the trombone bothering you," he said. "I'm used to living alone."

I carefully surveyed him and the room. There were dirty plates on the table, and Riker was already dressed. It was obvious that he had been awake and moving around for some time. I had no idea how I hadn't woken when he had gotten up. I had survived thus far by always keeping my guard up, never being caught by surprise, and always, always knowing what was going on around me.

And yet here I was, being awoken out of a serene, deep sleep by a man playing his musical instrument. I hadn't even planned on sleeping this long.

What was wrong with me?

Focusing on Riker again, I saw him returning his trombone to its stand. Then, he turned toward me. As I warily watched him, he stopped in front of the replicator.

"Cat food."

"Specify."

Riker sighed. "Supplement 8."

Another bowl of brown "food" appeared in the replicator, and Riker picked it up. Then he leaned down toward me.

I didn't move. I refused to allow myself to run as he set the food down a few centimeters from my bed. I had made the decision to stay for the day, and if I was going to stay then I couldn't run away every time this man got close to me. Not only would it be tiring and a waste of time, but Riker would also probably think that it was odd. And he might decide that I wasn't worth putting up with.

Riker moved away, and went into the bathroom. I paused, steadying my breathing. I was over-thinking everything I did. I was analyzing every single thing that happened, and trying to determine the best course of action. And it just wouldn't work. I knew that, but I couldn't stop. I couldn't just suddenly decide to trust this man. It wasn't the way I worked, and a lifetime of experience had instilled the habit of distrust even deeper in me.

It would take more than a cat bed and a few bowls of food to get me to trust him.

A little while later, Riker emerged from the bathroom.

"Computer, time," he said.

"0748 hours," the computer answered.

Riker was apparently upset by this, because he hurriedly put the dishes in the replicator, hit a button, and then left, the door closing behind him.

Rising from the bed, I stretched, feeling my hair rise as I did so. It no longer felt strange to have fur; I had gotten used to it many years before. However, staying in one shape besides my original for too long could become uncomfortable. Not painful exactly, just uncomfortable.

Stepping out of the bed, I slowly walked across the room. I might as well become familiar with my new surroundings. In one corner of the living area, Riker's trombone was proudly sitting on a stand. From the way that he had it proudly presented and shining, I could tell that it was one of his prized possessions. I wondered what else I could find out about him.

About an hour later, I had discovered that Riker liked poker (a lot), jazz, and Risa, which was a planet that I had visited on several occasions. Didn't much care for it.

Done with my inspection, I hopped, with some difficulty, onto Riker's bed and settled down near the foot. It was much softer than my bed was.

For the first time since I had come on board, I relaxed slightly. I was finally alone, and I was now relatively familiar with my surroundings. I could let my guard down, a little.

Again, I must say that I know that I am over-analyzing and over-thinking everything. It may seem like a simple enough solution to you: stay hidden in Riker's quarters for not only the day but for the rest of the trip as well. But for me, it is different. It has to be when you spend your entire life around people who would just as soon hurt you as look at you. At this point, staying in the quarters for the entire voyage had not even occurred to me. It was too risky.

I'm used to sitting around and doing nothing. It comes with the territory. Right then, however, it was actually pleasant. I'd had a stressful day the day before, and at the moment nothing felt better than curling up and knowing that I was in relative safety. If anyone came in right then, they wouldn't call security or have me thrown in the brig when they saw me. They knew I was here, and they didn't mind. I didn't have to hide.

I must have dozed off, because the next thing I knew I was hitting the floor. Jumping to my feet, I looked around for what had happened. Then I sighed, realizing that I had just fallen off the bed while I was asleep. How had that happened? I'd never fallen off a bed in my life; I hardly even moved around. It must have had something to do with my dream.

Sitting back down on the floor, I tried to remember it. It had been unpleasant, and it had had something to do with Romulans. I pushed it out of my mind. It had been a long time since I had been stowed away on a Romulan ship, and I didn't plan on going back anytime soon. The last time I'd been on their ship had been enough to last me a lifetime.

For the moment, my only worries were going to the bathroom and then eating a rather late breakfast, both of which I did.

Riker didn't come back until later in the afternoon. To my surprise, I was actually glad to see him. However interesting sitting alone might be, it was actually quite nice to be with another person. And I thought that I didn't like people.

From the bedroom, I saw Riker enter and toss his badge on the table.

"Tasha?" he called, looking around the living area. I stood up, then sat back down. Had I just almost run over to him? For goodness sakes, I wasn't a dog. I wasn't even a cat. And I certainly wasn't going to start turning into some meek animal just to please my "master."

A few seconds later Riker saw me and walked over to me.

"Hey cat," he said. He looked around the room. "You didn't scratch up the furniture or anything, did you?" he asked.

Of course not, I thought to myself. I'm not a barbarian.

"I'm beginning to like you," Riker said. He raised his hand. Then, without warning, he reached over and grabbed my head.

Panicking, I jerked away, biting at whatever I could as I did so. Lunging off the bed, I retreated into the corner, the hair along my back rose. From there, I spun to face Riker in case he should follow me. Rarely did someone only attack you once.

He didn't. He was standing with a look of shock on his face, switching his gaze between me and his hand, which was bleeding.

Only then did I realize that he hadn't been attacking me, he'd been petting me. Trying to, rather, until I'd bit him and ran away.

Riker had raised his hand to his face, and was examining his hand. From where I sat, I could make out three puncture wounds, all of which were bleeding. Stepping forward slightly, I approached him. He had been trying to be nice to me, and what had I done? I'd attacked him.

As I slowly walked forward, Riker turned around and left the quarters. I stopped. I had hurt him, and I couldn't even apologize. Maybe I could make it up to him, somehow, when he got back. If he let me stay. I doubted that he would now.

I sat on the couch worrying about it for the next fifteen minutes. It wasn't just that I had hurt someone, I'd done it before when I had had to escape from different ships, it was that I'd hurt someone who had tried to help me. Someone who I was actually beginning to like. And I didn't like many people. This was completely different.

Riker finally got back from Sickbay, which was where I had assumed he had gone. Cautiously observing him from couch, I waited to see his reaction to seeing me again. He didn't _look_ particularly angry, even though he was looking at me with something resembling apprehension.

Hopping down onto the floor, I slowly approached Riker. If I had been frightened when I had first met him, I had more of a reason to be now.

I stopped a meter or so away from him. He was looking down at me, and was absentmindedly touching his right hand where I had bit him. I was glad to see that the doctor had been able to fix it without leaving so much as a scar.

I walked closer and slowly rubbed against his leg in a cat-like gesture. This probably wasn't the smartest move as people of any race tend to be angry at things that have just hurt him, but I couldn't help doing it, however weird it felt. I felt bad for hurting him, and I didn't have any other way to apologize.

I stopped when Riker bent down slighting, laying his hands on his knees.

"Are you going to bite me again?" he asked. I fought the temptation to shake my head. Cats didn't understand English.

Riker must have taken the fact that I was sitting there trying to look as harmless as possible as an negative, as he crouched down until he was sitting on the floor. Carefully, he reached his hand out to me, as he had the day before. Had it only been the day before?

Although I doubted that I would have done so the day before, now I gently rubbed my head against his hand. Riker relaxed slightly, and I realized that he had been on edge ever since he had come in. I almost laughed at this. _He _had been afraid of _me_?

Riker petted me for a second, which was rather awkward for me, and then stood up.

"Truce?" he asked. I nodded slightly, even though I doubted Riker would notice it. "Good," he said. "Because if you keep attacking me I'll have to give you to Worf."

I had stolen a crew manifest from the station, and thus knew that Worf was the resident Klingon on board. I stiffened as Riker said this. Would he really do that?

Riker looked at me quizzically. "If I didn't know better, I'd say that you understood that." He shook his head, and turned toward the replicator.

"Hasperat," he said to it. "I was just kidding about giving you to Worf," he added as he picked up the plate. I sighed in relief. While Klingons usually like pets such as Targs, I didn't seem them getting along too well with a cat. Maybe a mountain lion.

Riker sat down at the table, and I hopped onto the chair beside him. I loved hasperat, and the fact that I couldn't eat any at the moment didn't mean that I couldn't enjoy the smell. It smelled better than Cat Supplement Number 8, anyway.

Riker was halfway through his meal when he saw me.

"You like hasperat?" he asked. I avoided his gaze, staring off at some imaginary spot on the wall. I didn't think that normal cats would like hasperat.

Riker laughed suddenly. I looked over at him, confused.

"You're not a normal cat, are you?" he asked.

I played dumb, then realized that sitting a chair smelling hasperat wasn't exactly normal. I quickly hopped down and drank some water out of the water bowl, then curled up in my bed.

"Okay, Tasha, ignore me," he said.

I was beginning to get nervous around him. I had no way of knowing if he talked to all animals like this, or if he actually realized that I understood him. I preferred to believe the former. It was more comforting and, honestly, more likely. There was no way Riker could know that I wasn't anything but a, admittedly weird, cat.

After Riker finished eating, he got on his computer and started looking over something. I sat and watched him. I hadn't been around him for very long and I didn't know him at all, but I was beginning to like him. Anyone who didn't try to kill me upon discovering me in their quarters was a good person in m y book. I wanted to find out more about him.

The rest of the day passed by relatively uneventfully until around 1900. At 1900, the doorbell rang. I was sitting in a chair next to the door when Riker, who was seated across the room, called out to whoever it was to enter.

When the door entered, I saw a Klingon standing there. I stood up, on edge. I didn't have any particular grievance against Klingons, it was just that they were usually volatile. It was strange to see one out of the traditional armored Klingon uniform.

"Commander, may I come in?" he asked.

"Of course, Worf," Riker said, sitting up. "What's on your mind?"

"I wish to be excused from the reception when we arrive at the Starbase," Worf said, obviously uncomfortable. I had heard nothing about a reception, but from the way Worf was acting I could tell that it was unpleasant. I could sympathize.

Riker seemed to find what Worf said amusing.

"Of course, Worf," he said. He paused. "I only wish that I could excuse myself."

"Thank you, Commander," Worf said. He turned to go, and then saw me. I unconsciously stepped back. Drawing the attention of a Klingon wasn't at the top of my to-do list.

Worf froze, and then let out a loud noise, moving towards me at the same time. Terrified, I instinctively jumped backwards off the chair and darted across the room toward the only safe place there was, behind Riker. Jumping onto the couch that Riker was sitting on, I darted onto the headrest behind Riker's head. From there, I looked over at Worf.

He was rubbing his nose, and both he and Riker were staring at me. Riker leaned forward and turned around so that his face was a few inches from mine.

"Tasha?" he asked.

Looking from one to the other, I took in their confused faces. What were they so confused about? Worf had just tried to attack me, and Riker should be standing up for me. I was his cat, after all.

"I'm sorry, Commander, I seem to be allergic to cats," Worf said, wiping his nose one last time and then lowering his arm.

"It's fine, Worf," Riker said, turning back to Worf. "She's just really skittish."

Skittish? From my perch on the couch, I continued to stare at the two of them. Then, the reality slowly began to dawn on me. Worf hadn't inexplicably tried to attack me. He was allergic to cats, and had sneezed. Just as I had done with Riker a few hours before, I had mistaken a perfectly innocent gesture for an attack.

"She'll be fine," Riker said to Worf. Worf took this as a dismissal and left, while Riker turned back toward me.

"You need to calm down," he said, reaching his arm up to gently scratch the top of my head. "Nobody's going to hurt you."

I almost believed him.

"It's not like I'm going to let anything happen to you," Riker continued, for all the world acting like he though I could understand.

I pulled back from Riker, and then hopped down onto the couch. I settled down on the cushion next to him. I was getting over the Worf Scare, and was beginning to think that maybe I was too on-edge.

"You just need to calm down," he said again, returning to his computer. He absentmindedly reached a hand over and put his arm around me.

I jerked up, and hopped down, hurrying past Riker and over to the cat bed. I could not relax, and I could not start thinking that I was too on-edge. Being 'on-edge' was what had kept me alive for the past ten years. I couldn't start feeling at ease on the Enterprise just because I was beginning to trust Riker.

With a jolt, it hit me. I wanted to trust this man, and I had no idea why. True, he had let me stay and had told me that he wouldn't let anything happen to me, but that didn't mean that he would accept or defend me if he knew who I really was. He would probably turn out just like all the other. I couldn't trust him, and I couldn't like him. If I did, then I would get careless.

I was leaving that night, and that was that.

But what if I didn't leave? I asked myself for the first time. What if I just stayed with Riker for the remainder of the voyage? The thought hadn't even occurred to me before, but I found it interesting. Would it work? I'd done it for the past day and a half, why not for another five or so days?

One part of me, the part that had kept me alive for so long, was yelling at me to dismiss the idea and make my escape. I couldn't become emotionally attached to anyone on this ship. But the new part that had started speaking up during the day was telling me to consider staying with Riker. What could be the harm? it was asking. I would just hang out for a few days, and then disappear as soon as we made it to the Starbase. He would never know who I was or what had happened to me.

I thought about what had happened over the past day and a half. Last night I wouldn't have even considered staying for the rest of the voyage. I wouldn't have even thought of it. What had changed between then and now?

I realized that it was Riker. Well, he had changed me. I had begun to trust him. It may not seem like a big thing to you, to trust a person not to hurt a cat, but for me it was a first. I had never put myself in someone else's hands and trusted them to not hurt me before. I wasn't sure if I knew how.

And it wasn't Riker that I was afraid of. If I stayed with Riker, and everyone knew that he suddenly had a new cat, the risk of discovery would increase dramatically. Was it worth it?

I knew that I was on the brink. If I decided to stay then I couldn't turn back. By the next day, the weak, emotional part of me would have probably already become too attached to my surroundings (and Riker) to leave.

Everything in me was screaming at me to run and never come back, but the only thing that I could think of was how, when I had thought that I was in danger from Worf, I had run to Riker for protection. It had been pure instinct, and weren't my instincts worth something?

In the end, I think my mind was already made up and that I was just making one last-ditch effort of bring myself around to reason. But sanity didn't stop me from returning to the couch and spending the rest of the evening dozing (on the side farthest from Riker).


	3. Chapter 3

_CHAPTER 3_

The next day passed by in a relative uneventful manner. Riker was apparently off duty, for he slept in and then made plans with someone to go to the holodeck. He spent most of the morning eating breakfast and then showering. He left at a little after 1100.

As for me, I spent most of my day alternating between lounging on the couch and running around the quarters trying to get exercise. Cats' bodies aren't made to be sedentary for so long, and I was beginning to get cramps from all the sitting around that I'd done.

I couldn't bring myself to regret the decision to stay. I tried to several times, but every time I did I just ended up telling myself to shut up.

I had to admit that it was getting rather boring: sitting around doing nothing. I had done it for the past day and a half, and it wasn't as interesting as it sounds. If you're a cat, there isn't much that you can do in a Starfleet officer's quarters. I spent most of the time sleeping.

_I was six years old, and was playing in my secret spot with Brandon. I had just finished my first day of school. Brandon was two years older than me and thus had been going to school for two years, so it made me feel like I was finally grown up to be able to say that I went to school, too. _

"_I already know how to read," I was saying, "so Mr. Davner said that I'm ahead of my class." _

_Brandon talked about school a lot, and I'd always felt like a baby because I didn't go. That wouldn't happen anymore._

"_You wait until you have Mrs. Charleston next year," Brandon said. "She makes you read five pages every day."_

"_That won't be that hard," I said, which was a lie because inside I was nervous. Five pages?_

"_Aw, don't worry about it," Brandon said. "You'll do fine. Hey, did you get any chalk?"_

_I smiled mischievously as I drew two sticks of yellow chalk out of my pocket. Brandon's grin widened._

"_Good job, Tasha!" he said, grabbing on of the sticks. "They don't let me use the chalk anymore without having a teacher watch me."_

_Brandon was the best chalk stealer that I knew, but even he got caught sometimes. When he did, I had to come through. We spent a few happy hours coloring on the sidewalk at the park._

"Hey, Tasha, wake up," I heard, and suddenly felt someone scratching my head. Jerking awake, I saw Riker leaning over me where I lay on the couch. I relaxed.

Why did he have to _do_ that? I asked myself. Didn't he know how unnerving, not to mention frightening, it was to have someone wake you up in that way? Apparently not. And why had I relaxed when I saw him? I should have panicked and either attacked him or run away. Was I really getting that stupid?

"Have a seat," Riker said. "This is Tasha, my cat." Looking past him, I saw a variety of people seating themselves around the large, glass table. I recognized Data and Worf, but there was also a blond haired woman, a dark haired woman who was not in uniform, and a black man with some sort of visor over his eyes. All were human.

Standing up, I watched as the dark-haired woman went into the bedroom and returned with the case of poker chips. On the way back, she looked over at me.

I froze as my eyes met hers. Her eyes were black, pure black. Even I knew that humans didn't have eyes like that. She was a betazoid. This must be Deanna Troi, the ship's counselor.

I quickly cleared my mind of thoughts, and then started the process of blocking my mind from hers. I knew how to do it, and once I was done then she wouldn't be able to read me at all. I wondered if she had read anything before I had noticed her, and mentally cursed myself for my inattention. That's what I got for letting my guard down.

Once I had finished I glanced over at her. I saw that she had returned to the table. She didn't _seem _to have noticed anything different about me. Maybe she couldn't read me when I was in my cat form, or maybe the fact that she wasn't completely betazoid decreased her mental abilities.

Relaxing a bit, but still keeping my mental barriers up, I returned my gaze to Riker. He had sat down at the table and was shuffling the cards while the others handed out the chips.

I watched as the six of them stacked their chips and prepared for Riker to deal. From the way that they were all acting, I assumed that they did this often. Some sort of weekly poker night or something.

"The game is five card stud," Riker said. "Nothing's wild." He started to deal.

I watched each of the player's reactions as they got their cards. Data had absolutely no reaction on his face, which I would have expected seeing as he was an android. The visored man, who I recognized as Chief Engineer Geordi LaForge due to the fact that he wore a visor, had no expression either. Worf however, took one look at his cards and then growled impatiently.

"Get a bad hand again, Worf?" Riker asked.

Worf frowned. "I fail to see how it is possible to continually get bad hands," he said.

"I will bet ten," Data said, carefully picking up a chip and putting it in the center.

"I'm in," Troi said.

The next person at the table, the blond haired woman, paused.

"You in or out, Beverly?" Riker asked. Beverly. So this was Beverly Crusher, the ship's Chief Medical Officer. I realized that these people were the senior officers of the ship, minus the captain. I was sitting in the same room as the most important people in Starfleet, minutes Starfleet Command. This was the crew of the Flagship of the Federation. Great.

I also realized that Riker loved this game. As it continued and they played one hand after another, Riker became increasingly more excited. He won most of the hands, and I surmised that he did so often.

He was also very good at bluffing.

It was at the end of the fourth or fifth hand (I'd lost count) that I first started to notice it. It was just Riker, Crusher, and LaForge, everyone else having folded. They were still playing five card stud, and while Riker had taken only one card, LaForge and Crusher had taken three.

I've played my share of poker, and I've found that when a person draws only one card, they are usually bluffing. With five cards, the odds of getting a near perfect hand on the first deal is very low. But if you can make people think that you have a near perfect hand, you could win.

"I'll see your ten, and raise you ten," Crusher said.

"I'm out," LaForge said, laying his cards down on the table.

"I'll see your ten, and raise you twenty," Riker said, counting out his chips and then tossing them out into the middle of the table.

"He's bluffing you, Beverly," Troi said.

Crusher played with her chips for a few moments as she studied her cards and Riker's face. I studied it, too. He was bluffing, I was sure of it. There wasn't a particular tell that I noticed, it was just that...he was bluffing.

Riker raised an eyebrow at Crusher as she continued to stall.

"Alright, I fold," Crusher said, tossing her cards onto the table.

Riker smiled as he raked the chips toward him with one hand.

"Were you bluffing?" Troi asked.

Riker didn't answer. He didn't have to tell them what he had, and there wasn't much of a reason to. If they didn't know if he was bluffing they wouldn't know the next time he did it, either. They couldn't know what he had.

I could, though. Getting down from the couch, I walked around behind Riker and looked up at his cards, which he was still holding up. I laughed (on the inside, because cats can't laugh). Riker had nothing. His handed consisted of a two and nine of hearts, a six of spades, and a king and seven of diamonds. He hadn't even been going for anything when he had asked for one card.

"Will, your cat is looking at your cards," Crusher said. Looking at them, I saw Riker turning around to look at me. I immediately started to clean my front leg.

"Was she?" Riker said. Glancing up, I saw him turning around to look at Crusher again. "She does stuff like that a lot. She's a very strange cat."

"Where did you get her?" Troi asked. I tensed, not wanting them to take this path of conversation. I still hadn't figured out why Riker hadn't taken me back to the station when I had just come aboard.

"She just showed up in here," Riker said. "I thought someone on the station lost her, but no one there was missing a cat. I thought I'd keep her until we get to the next station. Maybe somebody there would like to adopt her."

I could live with that.

"I thought you didn't like cats," Crusher said.

I was getting uncomfortable with all the attention that they were paying to me. I had hoped that no one would notice me.

Riker shrugged. "She's actually starting to grow on me," he said. Well, that's good, I thought.

"That's how you got those scratches on your hand," Crusher said suddenly, leaning forward. "Your cat _attacked _you?"

I grimaced. When they put it that way, it made me feel worse than I already did.

"I tried to pet her, and she panicked," Riker explained. "She's terrified of everything."

"I believe that I...frightened her yesterday," Worf put in. He looked embarrassed about it. I was just as embarrassed, although I still thought that my reaction had been rather justified.

Riker laughed and started to stack up his chips in piles, which were much larger than everyone else's.

"Yeah, it doesn't take much to frighten her. But she's getting better. Aren't you, Tasha?" I met his gaze for a second, then returned to the couch.

Eventually, the conversation moved on to other things and I was forgotten. Well, almost. Data did glance over in my direction twice, but after that I was pretty much ignored. This was fine with me.

The rest of the poker game passed by relatively uneventfully. Riker continued to win most of the hands, but the others got their turn, too. I wondered if Riker was doing this intentionally. No, I decided, he wasn't the kind of person to intentionally lose a game. That much I knew, although other aspects of his personality remained a mystery to me.

Slowly, the evening wore on. I had no way of knowing what time it was, but it felt late. I would have gone to sleep, but I knew better than to go to sleep with six unknown people in the room. My instincts hadn't been that repressed.

Finally, the game ended (although no one had actually been eliminated) and they slowly left, one by one. Crusher was the last to leave, as she was talking to Riker about some play that she wanted him to be in. Eventually, though, the quarters were empty (except for Riker) and it was silent once more. I closed my eyes, reveling in being able to finally relax. I had been on edge the entire time that the others had been here. I was just so used to hiding whenever I was in a visible form that being so exposed had been mentally painful.

I opened my eyes as I heard Riker walking across the room. He had picked up the case of poker chips and was carrying it back into the bedroom. Then he got clothes out of a dresser drawer and carried them into the bathroom. Soon, I could hear water running. Deciding that it would be a while before he came out, I crawled down onto my bed and curled up into a ball. I soon fell asleep. Thus ended my third day on the Enterprise.

The next day and a half wasn't much different. Riker wasn't in his quarters very often, being either on duty or off socializing. When he was home (I could barely believe it the first time I thought of the quarters as "home") he would practice his trombone for some concert that he had coming up or just relax. The days passed slowly but uneventfully, something that I was very thankful for. I needed time to relax after the past few weeks and months. Sneaking off the Terellian cargo cruiser and onto the space station had been stressful, not to mention terrifying and potentially deadly. Terellians aren't exactly friendly at the best of times, and were bound to be even less so if they discovered me. It was nice to just sit back and relax, knowing that everything I needed was provided for.

Nothing of interest happened during that time, except something that Riker got excited about. It was the fourth day there. I was sitting on the cat bed when Riker hurried into the quarters. He looked excited about something, and was holding what looked like a carpeted post.

"Tasha, look what I got," he said, holding it up for me to see. "It's a post." I stared at him, wondering if he had lost his mind. It happened. Sometimes the stress for high-ranking Star Fleet officers was too much and they just snapped…

"It's a scratching post," Riker explained, setting it down in front of the couch. "Data replicated it for you."

I stood up and looked at it. Now that he mentioned it, I did remember hearing cat owners talking about scratching posts. It was supposed to keep a cat's claws short or something. I'd never paid much attention.

Looking back up at Riker, I saw that he was smiling at me. He looked ecstatic. Was he seriously excited about this? Wow. Well, if it meant that much to him…

I walked over to the post, and scrapped my two front paws over it, ripping down the fabric. It made a terrible noise, but I was surprised to learn that it felt good. Lifting my paws up again, I tore at the fabric once more. Nice.

Riker sat down on the couch, watching me as I scratched the post a few more times. He looked terribly pleased with himself. But, he had gotten this post for me. It was kind of…sweet, actually.

One afternoon, on the fifth day that I was on the Enterprise, I was busy running up and down Riker's quarters. I was trying to work out the kinks in my muscles. My body was starting to really hurt. Although I was a natural-born shape-shifter, it still hurt if I stayed in one shape for too long. The only shape that I could stay in forever without any pain was my natural, Sandorian one. It was also the one that I liked least.

Finally, I came to stop. As I panted, I stretched. This is ridiculous, I thought. I ran around every day, and all I ever succeeded in doing was wearing myself out. Stretching wouldn't help anything, and I knew it. The only thing that would help was returning to my original shape, if only for ten minutes. Then I could turn back into a cat again, and be pain free.

I frowned at the thought. I had become very careless the last few days, and I knew that. I had come to trust and rely on Riker far more than I should have. Also, I had begun to… No, I wouldn't think about that. It was stupid, and pointless. In a few days, I would be at the space station and I would never see this ship, or the people on it, ever again.

I could handle the pain for a few more days.

But, as the slow afternoon hours continued as they did every other day and Riker didn't come back, I found my mind drifting back to the idea. All I would need to do was change back into my Sandorian form for a few minutes, and all the pain would be gone. It wouldn't even take that long. Plus, I could go stand in Riker's bedroom so I could have time to change back if anyone came in. Weren't a few minutes of fear worth not having to be in pain for the rest of the trip? It wasn't like anyone would actually find me.

As I had been doing the last few days, I tried to talk myself out of the stupid idea. And, as I had also been doing, I failed miserably. Fifteen minutes later, I stood and hopped off the couch.

Riker didn't have an exactly consistent schedule, but when he left he was usually out for several hours, at least. He had left about two hours ago, which meant that I had a while before he came back. I was sure that no one else would come in his quarters while he was gone.

Walking over into the bedroom, I paused, trying one more last ditch effort to keep myself from doing something so recklessly stupid. But the pain in my body was too much, and the next thing I knew I was standing there in my Sandorian form. The good thing about being a shape-shifter is that we can also shape-shift into the clothes that we want to wear so we aren't naked. I honestly have no idea how that works, as I would think it impossible, but I'm grateful that it does. At the moment I was wearing a pair of green pants and a loose, light blue top.

I sighed, relishing in the feeling. I had never really liked my normal shape, but right now there was nothing I loved more. Stretching my arms up above my head, I reached down and touched my toes. My hair fell down over my face and shoulders. Ahhh, now that was luxury.

I still have no idea how what happened next happened. I don't how long I was in my normal form, whether it was for five minutes or twenty. I don't know how I got into the living room. The next thing that I do know is hearing the door of the quarters open. That's when everything changed.


	4. Chapter 4

_CHAPTER 4_

I turned around as if in slow motion. I watched as the door slowly opened, with myself frozen in time and helpless to stop it. There, standing in the doorway, was Riker.

He saw me as soon as the door opened. He frowned, stepping through. Later, I remembered his face and realized that he was mentally running through a list of the crew, trying to place me, but at the moment I couldn't think much of anything. I couldn't believe this was happening. Not now, not when the voyage was almost over.

A few seconds passed, but it felt like years as we stared at each other. Finally, Riker spoke.

"Who are you?"

He was confused at my being there, but also angry. I was intruder in his quarters, and he was the First Officer.

"I…I'm…" I stuttered, unable to find words or indeed think of anything to say. What could I say? "You…"

"I don't recognize you. You're not part of the crew," Riker said. It wasn't a question, it was a statement. I could see his hand start to move, ready to call in an intruder alert.

"No!" I said, stepping forward. My reaction must have surprised him, because he paused. It was only for a second, but it was what I needed. "Don't call security."

"You don't belong on the Enterprise, which means that you are an intruder. Why shouldn't I call security?" Riker asked. He started to move his hand towards his com badge again, ready to call for Worf.

"Because I'm Tasha." The words were out before I could stop them. If I had been thinking clearly, I wouldn't have said them. I would have disappeared into some tiny form, unable to be seen. Or, at the very least, have let him think I was nothing more than a normal Sandorian. I could have even passed for human if they didn't scan me. But I hadn't been thinking clearly for the past five days. Not since I had come on board.

Riker looked slightly confused, but not enough. He obviously hadn't connected his cat Tasha and this strange woman standing before him. He was only confused because I thought that he should know who I was.

"Tasha who?"

I looked at him, regretting saying what I had said, and wondering if I could reach him some other way. Wondering what I could say or do to get him to not call security. What story could I tell him? My brain was already cycling through stories and plausible made-up scenarios, when I stopped it. No, I realized. I _wanted_ to tell him the truth. Not just so I could try to get out of something, but because I didn't want to lie to him. I didn't want to trick him.

I couldn't tell him the truth, though, could I? I'd been hiding who I really was for years, why should I tell Riker now? I should have just told him a lie, and then gotten out of there somehow.

"Please, don't call security," I said again, not sure what I was going to say, bumbling along. "Just, let me explain. Please."

"Explain what?" Riker asked. I could tell that he was still confused, but he also had the hard, Starfleet look of an officer faced with a hostile. I'd seen it before. You could see them mentally going over all of the protocol and combat training that they had ever learned. And they were ready to use it.

"It's me, Will, it's Tasha," I said. I wasn't sure why I called him Will. I hadn't thought of him as anything other than 'Riker' ever since I had met him. "Your cat."

Riker's calculating look was replaced by one of utter confusion and disbelief.

"What?" he asked. He obviously thought that I, whoever I was, had lost it.

"I'm Tasha. I'm your cat," I said, as if he could understand that. He couldn't, and he didn't answer. He still looked like he thought that I was either crazy or making up a very elaborate and stupid lie. "Look," I finally said.

Without allowing myself to think of the possible outcomes of such an action, I immediately transformed into a cat, the same cat that had been living with Riker for the past five days. A few seconds later, I was Tasha again.

Riker had his phaser out and was pointing it at me. For some reason, that small and understandable gesture hurt me more than anything I'd ever experienced.

I slowly put my hands up.

"I'm not going to…" I paused, then shook my head. "I don't want to hurt anyone," I said. Then I realized that that might sound like a threat. "I _won't_ hurt anyone."

"Who are you?" Riker demanded.

"I'm Tasha," I said again. "I'm a shape-shifter." He had probably gathered that already, though.

"You're the _cat_?!" Riker asked, surprise in his voice. And something else. Disappointment? Why?

I nodded.

"How did you get in here?" Riker asked, still pointing the phaser at me. A small part of my brain wondered why he hadn't called security yet.

"I walked in," I said, keeping my hands up. I didn't want him to phaser me, not until I explained. "At the Starbase. I thought this was a supply cabinet, so I was going to hide here. Remember when you first saw me? When you and LaForge were talking about the repairs? I had just come on board. I barely managed to change into the cat when you came in."

I wasn't sure why I was explaining it to him. Why didn't I just escape or tell him to hurry up and put me in the brig already? Because those were obviously the only two options.

Riker was still staring at me. I could tell that he was trying to realize that I was the person he had been living with for the past five days.

"What are you doing on the Enterprise?" Riker asked.

"I needed transportation," I told him.

"Where to?"

I shrugged. "Anywhere." I might as well tell him the truth. "It didn't really matter."

Riker was silent for a minute. I could tell he was trying to not so much work it out but accept it.

"That's all you wanted? Transportation to anywhere? You haven't done anything to the ship?"

Is that what he thought? That I was a saboteur?

"I haven't done anything," I told him. "I wasn't trying to hurt the Enterprise or her crew. I just needed to get away, and the Enterprise was there."

Silence. Riker was gazing at me, frowning. I wished that I could have my cat sense back, for I wanted to know what he was feeling. Cats can smell emotions.

"I'm not going to hurt anyone," I said, nodding at the phaser. "And I won't try to get away. You can call security now, if you want. I don't mind; I won't escape. I'm tired…" I wavered off, not knowing what to say. "I'm tired of running."

I realized that this was true. I didn't care if he called security. Despite everything that was going on, and that was going to happen to me, I couldn't help feeling a sense of relief. I had grown so used to lying and hiding that I hadn't even realized what a weight it was. But now, now that I wasn't hiding anything from anyone, there was nothing to worry about and nothing to hide. Everything that could happen already had.

Once I realized this, I almost smiled. I looked up at Riker, wanting to see what he had been thinking.

He had lowered one of his hands, the one that was about to tap the com badge. He still held the phaser, though he had lowered it somewhat. Not much, but I noticed it.

"Why were you pretending to be a cat?" he asked. He looked like he wanted to know, needed to know, the answer. I couldn't understand why, exactly. Of course he would want to know everything, but later on, when I was safely in the brig. Why did he need to know now?

"It was the first thing that I thought of," I told him. "You surprised me when you came in, so I didn't have much time to react." Then I added, "Plus, people don't tend to hurt cats, even when they aren't supposed to be there."

"And you've been hiding out here every since." It wasn't a question, but I answered it anyway.

"Yes." I could try to explain. Try to tell him how he had changed me more than anyone else in my life, except maybe my parents, and how he was the only who had changed me for the better. How he was the first person who I had trusted, really trusted, in a very long time. How his respect was the main thing I wanted right now.

But I didn't. He wouldn't be able to understand it, I wasn't sure if I did myself, and he wouldn't want to listen right now. Instead, I just said…

"I'm sorry."

He frowned more, confused.

"I didn't mean to lie to you. I just didn't want to get hurt." It sounded so pitiful.

For a few seconds, our eyes locked, really locked, and we gazed at each other. And for a few seconds, I forgot about security. I forgot about the phaser, and brig that surely awaited me.

Then he shook his head, breaking the connection. I looked down, sighing. Now, he would call security and everything would be over. They would put me in the brig for the rest of the journey, and then ship me out to the Romulans, Cardassians, Terellians, or whatever other species wanted me on stowaway charges.

"What's you're name?"

I looked up, not having expected the question. Riker had lowered the phaser more.

"Tasha," I answered. He already knew that.

Riker shook his head. "You're real name."

"That is my real name. Tasha Lawrence. It always has been. I don't know how you guessed it, but you did."

I was surprised that something like that could still surprise him after what had just happened, but it did.

"Your…fur," he said finally. "It reminded me of someone I used to know."

This was starting to feel like a normal conversation. I realized that I was still holding my hands up, so I slowly lowered them. Riker noticed, but he didn't say anything. Neither of us said anything. Suddenly, it seemed like there wasn't anything else to say.

"Why aren't you trying to escape?" Riker asked, pulling me back to reality. His voice was sharp again, businesslike. "You could have when I first came in. Or even now."

I could have told him that it was never a good idea to tell your prisoner that it was very possible for them to escape, but I didn't.

"I don't want to escape." It was the truth. "I'm tired of running and hiding all the time. It's all I've been doing for a long time, and I don't want to do it anymore."

"We'll put you in the brig," Riker continued as if he hadn't heard me.

"I know." I'd known it ever since I had first decided to stay on in Riker's quarters. "And then you'll probably turn me over to some other species that want me on stowaway and trespassing charges, and they will do what they want with me. I know how this works."

Riker frowned. I wasn't sure what he was going to do or say next. He obviously didn't like the idea of turning me over to another species, but I wasn't sure if it was because he wanted Starfleet to have jurisdiction over me or for some other reason. I never got to find out because, just then, the doorbell rang.

Riker reacted immediately. He slid the phaser back into its holder and, grabbing my arm, pulled me into the bedroom. As I let out a small cry, he slid his hand over my mouth. My first reaction was to fight back, but I suppressed it. Whatever Riker was doing, he wasn't going to hurt me. Not physically, anyway.

"Shift!" Riker urgently whispered in my ear. His hand was gripped around my upper arm, his mouth close to my ear.

"What???" I breathed around his hand.

"Shift into the cat. NOW!" He released my arm, which he had been holding onto tightly, and stepped back.

I had no idea what he was doing, or why. But I saw the urgency in his eyes, and felt compelled to do what he asked. I suppose I wanted him to forgive me for taking advantage of him, and doing as he asked was the only way I knew how.

I sat on the bed and changed.

As soon as I had, Riker returned to the living room and opened the door.

"There you are, Will, I've been out here forever."

"Sorry. I was… in the bedroom with Tasha."

I wondered briefly if he knew how perverted that sounded, seeing how everyone thought I was a cat. Heck, even if I wasn't a cat…

"Well, I wanted to let you know that we're having the first rehearsal tonight at 1830, so make sure you're there." The voice sounded familiar. I thought it was the doctor, Crusher.

"Rehearsal?" Riker asked. His voice was confused, and I could tell that he wasn't paying attention.

"For 'Something for Breakfast!' Remember? You're playing Charlie."

"Oh, yeah, right," Riker said. "I remember."

There was a pause.

"Sorry, I'm riding the strugglebus this afternoon. I'll be there."

"You better. If you aren't, I'm giving the lead to Lt. Colson."

The door closed, and I heard Riker let out a sigh. I heard his footsteps returning to the bedroom.

When he came in I was sitting on the bed, back in my Sandorian form.

"Why did you hide me?" I asked. There wasn't really much point in beating around the bush. Sometime in the last ten minutes, I'd become at ease around him again. He wasn't going to hurt me. He might throw me in the brig, but he wouldn't hurt me. This was the same Riker, after all.

Riker sighed, rubbing his eyes with his hand. He looked tired.

"I need to think," he said.

"About what?"

"About you."

I had thought the answer was fairly obvious, and I said so. "I thought you were going to call security."

"Do you want me to call security?" Riker asked, sounding angry again. Why was he angry all the time? I could understand that he was angry because I had taken advantage of him, but it seemed like more than that.

"I don't _want _you to call security," I said. Now it was my turn to get mad. "Of course I don't want to go into the brig. But what else are you going to do? I stowed away on your ship!"

I stood up, more to relieve the tension than anything else. Walking helped me think, and cool down. I didn't want to start a yelling match with Riker right now.

Riker watched me as I paced the tiny bedroom several times. He didn't say anything, and he didn't pull out his phaser again. Finally, I came to a stop in front of him.

"I don't want you to turn me in." I continued before Riker could start to pity me, "I don't want you to turn me in, but I'm not begging, and I don't want you to feel sorry for me. Of course I don't want to go to the brig, but I know I will and I'm okay with that."

"Why?"

"Because…" Because I would rather be in the brig here than free anywhere else? Because, pitiful as it may be and ridiculous as it may sound, I had felt more at home here than any other place I had ever been? Because, even when I was a cat, these people had accepted me more than my own family ever had? "Because I'd rather be in the brig here than at the space station or on another ship," I said. "It's only a matter of time before someone on another ship discovers me, and I don't think that they'd be as understanding as you."

It was lame, at best. Riker, however, didn't seem to feel the need to question it, for which I was grateful.

Instead of saying anything, Riker turned around and walked out into the living room. I watched as he slowly paced from the door to the replicator and back again. Like me, he seemed to think better on his feet. I followed him into the room, and leaned against the wall. Finally, Riker turned towards me.

"You'll have to stay in cat form when there are people here," he said.


	5. Chapter 5

_CHAPTER 5_

Five hours later, I was sitting in my cat bed, still in shock over what had happened. I wasn't in the brig, I wasn't fleeing security, and I wasn't lying beaten up somewhere, which had happened before. I wasn't even hiding. Well, I wasn't hiding from the one person who knew who I was, anyway. The rest of them didn't really matter.

I still didn't know why Riker had done what he did. Maybe I would ask him sometime before I left, but I didn't know. He didn't seem to want to talk about it, and I didn't press it. As far as I was concerned, he had earned the right to keep some things to himself.

I didn't sleep much that night, so absorbed was I with my thoughts. It was still inexplicable to me that Riker hadn't turned me in, and I couldn't understand it. It wasn't just that he had potentially put his ship in danger, it was that he had put his own career in danger. And he had done it for a complete stranger who had taken advantage of him. I had thought that I had gotten to know Riker fairly well over the past five days, but apparently I was wrong. But, how well can you know someone when you're a cat?

I just couldn't wrap my head around it, even though I lay awake for many hours.

_I was nine years old, and my friend was leaving me for the first time. It is a custom on Sandor that children are sent off to some major city to enter a boarding school one they reach the age of eleven. Brandon had turned eleven during the spring, and his parents were sending him off to the capital to learn._

_We were walking alongside the stream, skipping rocks across it. Brandon was always better at it than I, but right now I didn't care too much. I had more important things to worry about. _

"_Why can't you go to somewhere closer?" I asked._

"_Beldon is one of the closest cities with a good school," Brandon told me. "I told you that before."_

"_I know," I mumbled, throwing a rock into the creek. It sank to the bottom. _

"_Aw, cheer up Tasha," Brandon said, shaking my shoulder. "We'll still see each other. I'll be home over the holidays, and we can see each other all next summer."_

"_I guess…" I muttered. I still couldn't believe that Brandon was leaving. When I had first met Brandon at the tender age of five, I had thought that we would be together forever. Eleven seemed such a long way off._

"_And you'll be eleven in two years," Brandon said. "You can go to the girls' school next to mine, and we can see each other then."_

"_That's true."_

"_See?" Brandon said. "It's not so bad. Come on, let's go eat lunch. My mom's fixing kali-tal."_

"_Alright," I answered grudgingly. I guess things weren't as grim as I had thought. Brandon would be back the next summer, after all, and I was sure that we would be friends for the rest of our life. Just like I'd always thought we would._

In the morning, I slept later than Riker. When I awoke, he was eating breakfast at the table, already dressed in his uniform. I stayed in bed for a few minutes, trying to decide what to do next. It seemed stupid to continue as a cat now that he knew who I was, but I wasn't sure if I wanted to become Sandorian again. It would be hard to live with Riker, who I was beginning to realize I knew so little about. And he didn't know me at all.

Eventually, realizing that I might as well get it over with, I rose from and bed and shifted. I pushed my hair back over my shoulders and straightened my clothing, which was the same thing I'd created the night before. I wasn't too imaginative when it came to clothes. It wasn't as if I was a clothing designer or anything. As per normal, I was barefoot.

Riker looked over at me, but didn't say anything.

I smiled at him slightly, not sure what to say. I wasn't sure how Riker wanted to proceed. Were we going to ignore each other for the next two days, going on as we had when I was cat, or were we going to actually try to get along and be friendly to each other? Or would I be an intruder on his ship?

"Help yourself to breakfast," Riker said, gesturing to the replicator.

"Thanks," I said. I had never been much of a breakfast person, but it had been so long since I had had access to a replicator that I wanted to take advantage of it.

"Earl Gray tea," I said, "and banana pancakes." I lifted the food and turned to the table. Riker was sitting down again, and I realized that he had pulled a chair out for me.

This relationship might actually work.

Riker raised his eyebrow as I set the food down on the table. "Banana pancakes?" he asked.

I ducked my head. "My mother used to make them," I explained. They were the one thing that I actually liked about her, but I didn't say that. Who wanted to hear that?

We ate in silence for a few minutes. When I was almost done eating, Riker spoke again.

"I have to leave in half an hour for my shift," he said.

"Okay," I acknowledged.

"No one will be here until I get back, so you'll be able to stay…" he gestured with his hand, apparently not sure what word to say, "in this form."

"Thanks." I smiled. 'Form' worked just as well as any other. "I'll be fine here," I added, not sure what he wanted to hear.

An hour later, I was enjoying my first shower in a very long time. Scrubbing my hair for the second time, I pondered my circumstance. I was pretty sure that it was unique. Nothing like this had ever happened to _me_ before. And how many other Sandorian shapeshifters were there? Well, ones who stowed aboard ships, that is.

Last night had been strange, to put it mildly. From Riker finding me, to our convoluted discussion, to his decision to let me stay, it had been very eventful. After he had made his decision, I had gone into mild shock. I couldn't believe that he was willing to just let me stay, no matter how harmless I might seem. And I knew that I could be far from harmless if I wanted to be.

I'd shifted back into cat form not long after Riker had made his decision, just to give myself time to think. I'd been doing a lot of that lately. Up until a week ago, my life had been fairly predictable, if not exactly routine. I would shift and hide from people to get where I wanted to go, get there, and the move on with no one the wiser. Here, though, things had been different from the start. I'd been discovered and instead of fleeing I'd embraced the very crew that I was deceiving and using. Then I'd been found out. Yet here I was, taking a shower in my would-be captor's quarters while he went out for his shift. It felt so natural.

Life was strange.

It was actually incredibly nice being in Riker's quarters during the day. I wasn't used to having the run of such a large area, and I enjoyed it. After the shower, I stretched out on the bed and started to read a book that I had found on one of Riker's shelves. It was a very worn copy of Much Ado About Nothing by an Earth playwright that I liked, although I had no idea how it had gotten so worn. Riker didn't strike me as a Shakespeare person.

I was relatively sure that no one would come in, but I tried to keep in the bedroom just in case. Even with this small restriction, it was fantastic to be in my normal form. It was luxurious even to be able to stretch out on the bed.

I was only a few scenes into the book when I decided to have lunch. This was another luxury: to be able to eat what I wanted when I wanted it. I still couldn't believe my luck.

I thought about it some more as I ate the hasperat. I was grateful to Riker for what he had, or rather had not, done, but I still didn't know why he had done it. He must have had some reason that I didn't know of, for no one would risk their career for a person they didn't even know. It simply wasn't possible. But, I didn't have to know the reason. I would be off the ship the day after next, and then this entire episode would be over. I couldn't say that I would be sorry.

Lying to yourself works sometimes.

Riker came back at around 1700. I was on his bed (which was very comfortable), finishing up the last scene of Much Ado About Nothing. When he came in, I quickly shifted into the cat. I was relatively sure that it was him, but I had been careless enough over the past few days to last me a lifetime. When I saw him, I returned to normal.

I still didn't know how to act around him. It hadn't been at all awkward when I had been a cat, but now it was incredibly so. I didn't know how Riker felt about me, whether he saw me as an intruder, a guest, or even a friend, although I found the last one highly unlikely.

Riker glanced around the quarters, and then back at me.

"Were you okay here?" he asked.

I nodded. "I was fine. How was your shift?"

"Fine." Riker asked as he walked toward the replicators. "Uneventful. I'm going to have dinner now, are you hungry?"

"Yeah." I was, actually. It had been a while since I had eaten lunch.

A few minutes we sat down to eat. It was weird eating with someone else, just as it had been at breakfast. We ate mostly in silence.

"I don't think I ever thanked you," I said, finally working up the courage to break the silence. "For not turning me in? I just wanted to tell you how grateful I am."

"Oh. Yeah, sure," Riker said. He paused, then looked up at me. "The reason I didn't call security is that I don't think you're a threat to the ship."

"You don't?" I asked, surprised. It seemed that nearly every person I met seemed to think I was a threat. Did Riker honestly think that I was harmless? It seemed so unlikely, but what possible reason did he have to lie to me?

"No. You could be, but…every person on board has the potential to be a threat, but they don't want to be. I don't think you want to be, either."

"I don't," I confirmed. "I don't have any reason to damage the Enterprise."

"I know."

We sat in silence for a few moments, neither of us eating.

"Where did you say you were before the space station?" Riker asked.

"A Terellian freighter," I answered quickly, coming out of my thoughts. "I was just on board for two days, though. Before that I'd been on an Arcadian ship that came from near Klingon space."

"Klingon space?"

"Yeah. I'm never stowing away on a Klingon ship again. Even _Risa_ was better than that."

"Risa?" Riker asked. It may have been my imagination, but I was pretty sure that his eyes lit up when I mentioned the name. I remembered the hor'ghan that I had found.

"I had a job as a bartender," I explained. "I actually stayed there for two months." It had been one of my longest stays in one place.

Riker nodded. "I've been there on shoreleave. It's a beautiful planet."

I snorted. "For you, maybe. All I saw was a bunch half-drunk men who were constantly hitting on me. Not my idea of paradise." I took a drink of water.

Riker looked mildly embarrassed. I allowed myself a small smile.

"You were probably one of them," I told him. I took another bite of my dinner, which was starting to get cold.

Riker shook his head. "I never got drunk," he said.

"Of course," I said sarcastically.

"It's going to be great to go there again."

"Speak for yourself," I said. I didn't plan on going back anytime soon. I took a few more bites before continuing the conversation. Or, rather, starting a new one.

"So where are we going?" I asked.

Riker raised an eyebrow. "You don't know?" he asked. There was a touch of skepticism in his voice.

"I know we're stopping at the space station in the Mazar system, but I don't know why," I said. "I didn't exactly get the chance to check the mission log."

Riker looked at me, and started to chuckle.

"What?" I asked. This wasn't the reaction I had expected. Riker only started to laugh harder. "What?!"

"We're going to Risa after we stop at the space station," Riker said. I stared at him. "A lot of the crew is getting shore leave while repairs are made to the ship."

"Great," I muttered. "Well, you have fun down there, because I'm getting off at the station."

"How can you not like Risa?" Riker asked.

I shrugged, but he looked like he genuinely wanted to know, so I continued. "It's just so…pointless," I told him. "All there is to do is walk around and lie in the sun and swim and do…useless things. There are so many other important things that you need to do."

"That's why you go there on _vacation_," Riker said.

"I never enjoyed vacations."

Riker seemed to give up on me. Taking one last bite, I finished eating

"I have to go to a play rehearsal at 1830," Riker told me as he finished.

"Okay," I answered. I remember Dr. Crusher mentioning something about it from the night before, but I hadn't exactly been paying attention to her. "What's it called, again?"

"Something for Breakfast," Riker answered.

"Sounds interesting," I replied, picking up my plate and putting it in the replicator.

"Dr. Crusher wrote it," Riker said, getting rid of his own dishes. "It's pretty good."

"When's the performance?"

"Three weeks," Riker answered. "Which means that we really need to practice. Computer, time?"

"1810."

"I need to get down to Deck 12," Riker told me.

"Yeah, okay. Have fun."

"Thanks." Riker gave me a nod and a small smile, and then exited the quarters. I settled down onto the couch.

I was really glad that Riker and I had spent this time, however short, together. It would make it more comfortable being in the quarters all day, knowing that Riker and I were capable of having a relatively normal conversation. Now I was relatively sure that I could spend the rest of the trip how I wanted without having to worry about Riker.

Rising from the couch, I returned to the bed and retrieved my book. Then I sat down to read.

_I was eleven years old, and the summer was drawing to a close. It was my last summer before I went off to boarding school. My parents, though not particularly rich, were well off enough to be able to send me to the capital city of Beldon._

_I sat on bank of the stream, dipping my feet into the cool water. There were only two weeks left before I was to leave my home and make my long journey to Beldon, and I was growing nostalgic, not to mention nervous. I was coming back home during the year for several holidays, but I would still miss this place. And Brandon._

_After I'd gone to school for several years, I had made several friends, but none of them were as close as Brandon. We still met at the same spot, though it was no longer every day. He had gone off to boarding school two years before, so I only saw him over the summer. This past summer, we had been spending every day together. _

_I felt a twinge of guilt as I thought over the past summer. I was close to Brandon and told him everything, everything that I was thinking or feeling or doing, but I had neglected to tell him one thing. I hadn't told anyone about it. I didn't know how I should tell them or how they would react or if I even should tell them. Nobody else had ever mentioned anything like this. What if there was something wrong with me?_

"_I heard that there's a serial killer loose in Cardon."_

_I turned around, forcing a smile and pushing away what I had been thinking about._

"_That's ridiculous," I told Brandon. "There hasn't been a serial killer there in twenty years." I didn't know the exact date, but I figured that it had to be around twenty._

"_Fifteen," Brandon corrected. "And the last one killed four people before he was caught."_

"_Whatever," I said. "I'm not going to get killed."_

_Brandon came to sit down beside me, tossing off his shoes and dipping them into the creek. _

"_Just thought I should let you know," he said._

_We sat in silence for a few minutes; just listening to the birds and feeling the water wash around our feet. I loved it in the park. It was so beautiful and peaceful. Finally, Brandon spoke again. _

"_Guess what?" he said._

"_What?" I answered._

"_You have to guess!" Brandon insisted._

_I frowned at him. "Just tell me! I don't want to guess."_

"_Fine. My brother got accepted into Dartmor!" _

_I stared at him. "No way!"_

"_Yep! He's going to be starting next month. He was the last person accepted, and they even made extra room in the classes especially for him."_

_Dartmor was a very prestigious boarding school that was located several hundred miles away in Wenton. Only the smartest kids on Sandor made it into the school. _

"_Why didn't you tell me your brother was that smart?"_

_Brandon looked sheepish. "My mom wanted to keep it a secret just in case he didn't make it in. You know how competitive they can get, she didn't want anyone to know."_

"_I thought we didn't keep any secrets from each other," I pressed, and then bit my tongue. Wasn't that what I was doing?_

"_Aww, come one," Brandon started, and then stopped. "What's wrong?"_

_I shook my head and smiled again. "Nothing."_

"_Something's wrong, what is it?"_

_I sighed. "Really, it's nothing," I told him halfheartedly. Brandon gave me one of his looks. "Fine. You know how I said that we don't have any secrets. Well...that's not really true."_

_Brandon grinned triumphantly. "Do you like that Flowers kid? I _knew_ it!"_

"_No, that's not it!" I snapped. No matter what Brandon said, I did _not_ like Chris Flowers. I stopped for a minute. What if he got angry at me, or didn't want to be my friend anymore? What if there was actually something wrong with me?_

"_What, then?" Brandon was starting to tell how upset I really was. _

_There was nothing for it. I showed him. _

_When I looked at him again, he was staring at me with mingled shock and horror._

"_Brandon?" I asked, scared. This wasn't the reaction that I had been expecting. "Brandon, what's wrong?"_

_He stood up and backed away, looking at me in what looked like disgust. Then he turned around and ran._

"_Brandon!"_

I jerked awake, looking around in confusion. Where was I? Slowly, I recognized the quarters. It had been a dream, just a dream. Sitting up, I rubbed my eyes. What time was it? And how long had I been asleep? Riker wasn't back yet, so it couldn't be that late.

"Computer, what time is it?" I asked quietly.

"2000," the computer answered. I'd been asleep for over an hour. How stupid could you get? Not only had I been asleep in my normal form, I'd fallen asleep on Riker's bed. I quickly got up and straightened the blanket where I had messed it up. Then I returned Much Ado About Nothing, which I'd luckily not damaged, back to its shelf.


	6. Chapter 6

_CHAPTER 6_

The next morning, I woke up to find Riker already gone. I cleaned up in the bathroom, and then replicated some tea and a bagel for breakfast. Then, finding no other books of interest, replicated A Midsummer Night's Dream to read. Riker must not be much of a reader.

I was on Scene II when I heard an announcement over invisible speakers.

"Senior officers, report to the Observation Lounge." It was the Captain's voice.

I absentmindedly took another sip of tea as I wondered what had happened. I knew that _something_ had to have happened in order for the senior officers to be called together for a briefing.

I finished off the tea and bagel and then dematerialized the dishes in the replicator. Then, sighing, I returned to cat form. It was the only way to be safe.

Sitting on the couch, I relaxed. We would arrive at the space station the next day, and I would leave the Enterprise. It might be nice to be able to leave the quarters for the first time in a week, but I was sure that I would miss this place. As stressful as it had been here at times, it had also been incredibly peaceful and liberating at others.

Riker came into the quarters an hour or so later. When I saw him, I immediately knew that something was wrong.

"What happened?" I asked as he sank down onto the couch.

Riker sighed. "Romulans."

I stiffened. I knew that the Federation hadn't had the best relations with the Romulans, and my own personal encounters had been…unpleasant. Anything that involved Romulans had to be bad.

"What did they do?" I asked.

"Just a few hours ago, two of their warships entered the Neutral Zone near a Federation Outpost."

"Why?"

"We don't know. They haven't attacked yet, but the Federation wants us to be there. They think that a show of force will make the Warbirds back down. And if not, they could use our help in a fight."

"So we're on our way there now?" I asked.

"Yes, we'll arrive late tomorrow."

"I guess that puts off your trip to Risa," I said. Then the other consequences of this detour dawned on me.

"And our stop at Starbase 32," Riker finished.

"Yeah…" I would have to stay on board until we returned from the Neutral Zone, however long that took. It would extend my stay by three days, at least. Assuming that we returned to the Starbase after we completed the mission.

"After we deal with the Romulans, we'll be coming back to the Starbase," Riker said. "You'll be able to leave then."

"Okay," I answered. I sighed, exhaling slowly. Poor Riker, having to put up with me for that long. This trip was definitely more than I had reckoned on. Probably more than he had reckoned on, too. He definitely hadn't expected having a guest in his quarters for over a week.

"I'm sorry you have to stay here, I know you'd rather be on the Starbase," Riker said.

_He _was sorry? "You don't have to be sorry, I'm the one who's intruding," I said, looking at him in surprise. "I don't mind staying here for another day or two, I just feel bad that I've commandeered your quarters."

"You don't have to feel bad," Riker said. "I don't mind you being here, either."

He didn't? I sat up. Did he seriously not mind me being here? How could he not, when he didn't even know me?

"Thanks," was all I said. Sighing, I leaned my head against the back of the couch. "This has been a very strange week."

"That's an understatement," Riker said. I looked over at him again, snorting. How had this happened, I wondered. Just the night before last, Riker had been pointing a phaser at me and about to turn me into security. Now we were sitting side by side on the couch, talking and…joking? I wasn't sure what was going on any more.

"I don't know about you, but I haven't eaten breakfast yet," Riker said, rising.

Riker had to leave not much later, no doubt to prepare for the coming encounter with the Romulans. I didn't know what was going to happen, but I had to admit that I was somewhat frightened. I knew Romulan Warbirds were dangerous, and that their firepower nearly matched the Enterprise. But, I was just going to have to trust that we would be okay. There was nothing else that I could do, anyway.

At around 1600, I decided to cook dinner. Well, 'cook' isn't the right word when you use a replicator. Rather, I decided to program a new meal into the replicator. It was a Sandorian dish called Carbel that included three different types of meat and two cheeses. It had been one of my favorites when I was a child. I was just finishing programming it when the doors opened.

I almost panicked before I realized that it was just Riker. I had been so engrossed in trying to figure out the controls to the replicator that I hadn't been paying attention to the fact that I was standing in plain sight.

As soon as I saw him, I knew that something was wrong. For one thing, he was limping and, for another, he looked like he was in pain. It wasn't that hard to put together.

"What happened?" I asked, hurrying over to him. He leaned against the doorframe, grimacing.

"I was playing Parrises squares on the Holodeck," Riker groaned. "I fell off the ramp and did something to my ankle."

"Parrises squares?" I asked. "Aren't you a little old to be playing that?" Riker glared at me, and I sighed. "Give me your arm," I told him, wrapping his left arm around my shoulders and helping him limp over to the couch. Once he had sat down, I crouched down beside him.

"Lift up your leg," I told him.

"Why?"

"Just do it." He obeyed, lifting up his left leg. I caught it and rolled up his pant leg a few times. Then, slipping off his shoe and sock, I surveyed the damage. The ankle was already swollen and was starting to bruise. I carefully applied pressure to several points. "Does this hurt?"

"Yes!" Riker jerked his leg out of my grasp and carefully stretched out on the couch.

"It's not broken," I told him, standing up. "Just sprained."

"Great," Riker groaned, covering his eyes.

I surveyed him, lying on the couch with his arm placed over his eyes. He looked miserable.

"Why didn't you go to Sickbay?"

"Beverly keeps telling me that I shouldn't play Parrises Squares. If I go in with another injury, she'll just have another chance to gloat."

"That's it?" Wasn't a little annoyance worth having your ankle healed?

Riker lifted his arm off his eyes and looked at me. "The Chief Medical Officer can also restrict Holodeck Privileges if she feels they pose a risk to the health."

"Ah," I said. So that was the reason.

Riker closed his eyes, no doubt deciding to bask in his pain for a while since he wasn't doing anything about.

"If you're not going to go to Sickbay, you should get some ice on that," I told him, walking over to the replicator. I ordered it to create several ice packs.

"I'm putting these on your ankle," I told Riker when I had them. "It'll help with the swelling." I knelt beside the couch and situated the ice packs on his ankle.

"Thank you," Riker said. "That helps."

"Yeah. The swelling should go down in a few hours, but that won't be completely better by tomorrow. You're going to have to go to Sickbay sometime."

"I'll be fine."

"Riker, you can't walk, how do you expect to perform you duties?" I asked. "Look, once the swelling goes down it won't be so bad. Call Dr. Crusher in here and just say that you hurt it some other way. You," I looked around the room for inspiration, then realized that I was it, "tripped over your cat."

Riker sat up, careful to keep his ankle still.

"That's a good idea."

"So you'll do it?"

"Once the swelling goes down."

I smiled. "Good." I went back to the replicator. "Carbel, and Wabash." A bowl full of Carbel and a glass of yellow-tan liquid appeared. "Are you hungry?" I asked Riker, looking down at him. He had propped himself up in a sitting position against the armrest and was now as facing me.

"Yeah. What is that?"

"It's a Sandorian dish," I told him. "I programmed it into the replicator."

"Is it good?"

"Yes."

I picked up the food and looked back at Riker. It looked like he was about to get up. Or trying to, in any case.

"Don't get up," I told him. "You don't want to hurt your ankle more. Here, I'll get it."

"You don't have to," Riker started, but I had set the food on the table and was already at the replicator.

"What do you want?"

"Whatever you're having," Riker answered. I ordered another helping and handed it to him, setting the Wabash on the coffee table.

"Thank you," Riker said, looking up at me.

"Wait until you've tasted it," I told him.

"I mean about the ankle, too," Riker said. "It feels better."

"Good. And you're welcome."

I returned to the table to eat.

Later, I thought about what had happened. It was the first time that I had been around Riker without over-thinking everything I said, or trying to gauge his reaction to something I said. Well, they say crises bring out the best in people. Maybe small ones made me less nervous.


	7. Chapter 7

_CHAPTER 7_

I lay in bed, staring out at the darkened quarters. It was late, although how late, I didn't know. Riker had returned from rehearsal some time before, and I had been lying in my bed ever since. I hadn't had the energy to talk to Riker when he had gotten back, so I had copped out and pretended to be asleep. It's easy to fake sleep when you're in a cat form.

The dream kept coming back to me when I slept, so I was trying to ward off sleep. I didn't want to relive that particular part of my childhood. Not after I'd spent so long trying to get away from it. Nine years is a long time, but not long enough to forget something.

Suddenly, I stood up, raising my ears. It was dark in the room, but I strained my ears to hear something, anything. I thought that I'd heard a noise from the other room. It had sounded like Riker saying something.

There it was again. Riker was definitely speaking, but I couldn't tell what he was saying. I couldn't even tell if he was saying actual words or just mumbling.

Standing up, I carefully made my way towards the bedroom, shifting as I went.

Tip-toeing over to the bed, I paused and listened. Then, I slowly smiled. Riker was still asleep. He was lying on his bed: eyes clothes, breath coming steadily, and a blanket up to his shoulders. He must have been talking in his sleep. I was turning to go when Riker suddenly jerked, causing me to step back. He began to mumble again, incoherently forming words and noises.

"No. Stop. Stop, that's an order!" There were disjointed mutterings, then, "Lieutenant! Tasha!"

Whatever he was dreaming about, it was upsetting him. I had a feeling that it wasn't about me. Quickly climbing partway onto the bed, I placed a hand on Riker's shoulder.

"Riker," I whispered, shaking him gently. I knew what it was like to be trapped in bad dreams that you couldn't escape, and I didn't intend to let Riker stay in his. "Riker, wake up." He didn't. "Will!"

He jerked awake, sitting partway up as he stared at me. His eyes were startled, and didn't focus on my face. I could tell that he was still far away in his dream.

I removed my hand from his shoulder as he slowly came back to reality. He looked around the room, as if looking for whatever demons had been haunting him. Then his gaze returned to me.

"Tasha?" he asked, frowning. I wasn't sure if he recognized me or if he thought that I was the Tasha he was dreaming about.

"Yes, it's me. It's Tasha Lawrence," I clarified. "You were dreaming, so I woke you up."

"Oh." Riker rose into a sitting position, leaning back against the wall. I followed suit, moving back to the other side of the bed and reclining down on my knees and then sitting on my legs.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

He nodded and wiped his face with his hand.

He didn't look okay, though; he looked like hell. His face was covered in a light sheen of sweat, and he was still breathing hard. It didn't feel right leaving him like that.

"Bad dream?" I asked, worried.

"Yeah," Riker answered, absentmindedly running his hand through his hair. He sighed. "I haven't dreamed about that day in a long time."

I didn't answer, waiting for him to continue. When he didn't, I asked, "You dreamed about Tasha?"

Riker nodded. "About the day she died."

I didn't know how to respond.

"She was our chief security officer," Riker continued. "Tasha Yar. She was one of the strongest people I knew. I thought she could survive anything. And then she was gone, just like that."

I moved to sit beside Riker at the head of the bed. I'm not sure if he even noticed.

"It's strange, but I haven't thought about her in a long time. But tonight…it's like it happened all over again."

I looked down, knowing that it was my fault. Somehow, I had reminded Riker of this other woman, this Tasha Yar. And she was dead.

Carefully, I raised a hand and placed it on Riker's shoulder. He looked over at me, seeming to see me for the first time.

"Sorry, I'm rambling," he said. "You don't want to hear about this."

"No, it's alright," I said. "You don't have to apologize, not if it helps to talk about it."

"I just realized that we _don't_ talk about her any more," Riker responded. "We just stopped even mentioning her. Why do you think that is?"

"Maybe it's easier to just forget. To act like it didn't hurt you, and eventually that it didn't even happen. That way you don't have to deal with it." Riker looked at me. "You're not the only one who has bad dreams," I told him.

"Yeah?" Riker asked.

"Yeah." I paused. "I thought that I'd forgotten all about it, but recently…" I shook my head. I realized that the dreams had started in just the last few days, ever since… "Ever since I came on board," I said, surprised. "That's when I started having the dreams again." I wished that I'd never started having them again. Unlike Riker, I'd been happy to forget the past.

"You okay?" Now it was Riker's turn to ask the question. I looked up at him.

"I spend all my time trying _not_ to think about the past," I answered. "I didn't choose to live like this because I liked to travel, there's more to it than that. I started running for a lot of reasons."

Riker paused. "Maybe you should stop running," he said. "Settle down somewhere."

"Maybe," I allowed, although I didn't think it likely. "I'm not sure if I know how." Suddenly I smiled.

I hopped up on the bed. "Come on," I said, grabbing onto Riker's hand.

"What?" he asked, but he allowed me to pull him out of the bed. "Where are we going?"

"I'm going to make you Kali-tal, a Sandorian delicacy," I promised him, leading him over the replicator.

"It's the middle of the night!" Riker protested. I grinned at him.

"Trust me, it's worth it. Now how do you program this thing?"

By the time we went to bed, it was nearer morning than night. In short, I'd talked to him about myself, and had told him more than I'd told anyone. Many of the things we talked about, I hadn't thought of in years, so talking about them again was like being there all over again. By the time I went to bed, I barely had the energy to shift before I fell asleep.

I slept in late the next day, tired from the long night. For the first time in a while, I didn't dream.

Climbing out of bed, I went into the bathroom to brush my teeth and take a shower. I had replicated a toothbrush the day before. It had been fantastic to brush my teeth again. Showers were also a luxury.

One of the great things about being a shape-shifter is that we can create whatever clothing we want. We don't have to buy clothing, or replicate it. We can just think about it, and then we're wearing it. I have no idea how it works, just as I have no idea how shape-shifting works. My species hasn't put much research into it, and I didn't have the resources to do the research myself. Sandorians have found a better solution: ignore it.

After I'd created suitable clothing, I went back out to the quarters. Riker had been in bed when I got into the shower, but when I left the restroom I found him at the replicator.

It was strange, seeing Riker again after the previous night. I had talked to him about things that I hadn't told anyone else, and I wasn't sure how I felt about it. It had been an impulse, but I still didn't know if it had been a bad one. I also didn't know how Riker felt about it.

I had to keep reminding myself that I had only met Riker, truly met him, two days before. Yesterday our relationship had been awkward, and I wasn't sure how it was going to be today. I kept telling myself that I didn't know him hardly at all, yet after last night, I felt like I did. Something about being with someone when he was that vulnerable made the relationship seem so much stronger.

"Morning," Riker said, not turning towards me. He was tapping buttons on the replicator.

"Morning," I answered, drawing closer to the panel. "What are you making?"

"Oskoid," Riker said. As he spoke, he hit one final button and a bowl of veiny, leafy greens appeared.

"What is it?" I asked, looking at it apprehensively. It didn't look very appetizing, and I had never heard of 'Oskoid.'

Riker held it out to me. "Try it."

I didn't particularly enjoy eating foods when I didn't know what they were, but I carefully lifted one of the leaves and tried it. It was actually delicious.

"This is good," I told Riker, surprised. "What is it?"

"It's a Betazoidal delicacy."

"Hmm." I tried another leaf. "I've never heard of it."

"I first had it when I was stationed on Betazed," Riker told me, setting the bowl on the table.

"You were stationed on Betazed?" I asked, surprised. I myself had never been to the planet, as there were too many telepaths for comfort, but I had heard it was beautiful.

"Yeah, a long time ago."

We continued the conversation for a while, discussing different things. It was weird, just standing around talking. The entire thing, from when Riker had first discovered me to now, still seemed surreal. But it was nice.


	8. Chapter 8

_CHAPTER 8 _

_(this is a short chapter, but it's kind of a filler. The next one's longer)  
_

The rest of the day passed by slowly, but not unpleasantly. For the first time since I had arrived, Riker actually stayed in his quarters for most for the day. He wasn't on duty and, since the ship was only traveling, there wasn't much for him to do. Every that could be done to prepare for the Romulans already had.

Being in the quarters with Riker was interesting. I was treated to a private trombone concert, got to listen to some old Earth music called jazz, and was even taught the finer points of poker.

"Two," I said, tossing two card face down on the table. Riker dealt two cards out to me and then put one of his cards down.

"One," he said.

I looked at the two cards that I had received. A nine and an Ace. The Ace was the only thing that I cared about, as it gave me a pair. Not much, but maybe it was enough.

"I'll bet ten," I said, picking up a green chip and tossing it into the pile. I looked up at Riker, who was surveying me.

"You're ten," he said, "and fifteen more."

I thought for a moment. I didn't have much, but if Riker was bluffing then I could beat him. I called, then, "I'll raise you ten more."

Riker toyed with his chips for a minute. "I'll call, and I'll raise you ten."

I squinted at him. "You're bluffing," I told him.

"There's only one way to find out," he said.

I had to admit, he had a very good poker face. I was sure that it came from years of practice. But it wasn't good enough.

"I call." I put the additional ten into the pot. "Now what do you have?"

"You first."

"Fine," I said, laying my cards down on the table. "Now what do you have?"

Nothing, apparently. Riker laid his cards on the table, revealing a mismatched assortment of suits and numbers.

Grinning, I raked in the pot.

"How'd you know I was bluffing?" Riker asked.

"Your left eyebrow twitches when you're bluffing. No, I'm kidding!" I said as Riker raised his hand to his face. "I can just tell. What, can no one else tell when you're bluffing?"

Riker shook his head.

"Really? Because it's pretty obvious." To me, at least. I tossed my cards to Riker and he started to reshuffle the deck.

"What's the tell?"

"There isn't one. I just know when you're bluffing."

Riker shook his head. Then he handed me the cards.

"You're deal."

I shuffled them a few more times, and then began to deal them. "Five card stud," I said. "Nothing's wild." Picking up my cards, I looked at them. Another bad hand. With my lousy hands and Riker's new inability to bluff, this was going to be a long game.

Late in the afternoon, Riker left to go to the bridge. We had arrived at the Neutral Zone. I wasn't sure what to expect when he left, would there be a battle, but he returned two hours later.

One of the Romulan Warbirds, he reported, had disappeared while the other was staying just inside the Neutral Zone. It refused to answer to hails, but wasn't making any aggressive actions.

Riker left soon afterward, saying that he had to return to the Bridge. Had he returned merely to tell me what was happening? It didn't seem likely, but I couldn't see why else he would have come back. If that _was_ the reason he had come back, it was incredibly thoughtful.

After Riker had left, I read. I was starting to get bored: the days were repetitive to say the least. I still couldn't say that I was sorry that we were at the Neutral Zone.


	9. Chapter 9

_CHAPTER 9_

_I was thirteen, and sat staring out the window. It was winter, and snow was falling out of the crimson sky. Night was starting to come, streaking the sky with veins of scarlet and red. _

_"Tasha, get away from the window!" A hand grabbed my shoulder, pulling me out of my chair. "What do you think you're doing?!"_

_He pushed me behind me and drew the window curtain closed, shutting out the last of the light. Turning towards me, he glared. _

_"What is the matter with you?!"_

_"I was just looking outside," I mumbled, not looking at my father. _

_"You were just looking outside?" he repeated. "You know that you're supposed to stay from the windows!"_

_"I know," I said. "I just…I wanted to see the sunset."_

_"Are you an idiot?!" he yelled at me. I backed up as he advanced on me. "Do you know how hard we work to keep you here?"_

_"I'm sorry," I said. "I didn't realize…"_

_"You don't realize anything, do you?!" he shouted. "That's it, I give up. I'm tired to trying to protect you." He turned and started toward the stairs._

_"Dad?" I asked._

_He didn't answer._

_"Dad?"_

_I heard the door at the bottom of the stairs slam. I stood staring at the stairway, as if I was waiting for him to come back. He didn't. Slowly, I turned toward the chair that I had been sitting on. Looking at the table, I saw a  
plate of food. Mom had probably just finished cooking the dinner._

_Sinking down onto the chair, I poked at the food with the fork. I was hungry, but I didn't feel like eating right now. I had made Dad angry again, just like I always did. I couldn't even understand what I was doing wrong. And he had seemed really, really mad this time. _

_Dad was always getting angry at me. I didn't see him much, maybe once every three days. But every time I did seem him, he seemed to find something wrong, something to yell at me about. _

_Of course, most of the time it was my fault. I knew that I was supposed to stay away from the window and keep the curtain drawn, but it was just so hard sometimes. It was difficult not going outside, even when I knew that it was for my own safety. Sometimes I wanted to see a tree, or a sunset, so badly, just to know that it was still there, that I didn't care about the consequences. It was selfish of me, I knew, but I couldn't help it. _

_Picking up the fork again, I took a bite. It was one of my favorite dishes, but I didn't have much of an appetite. I hadn't been eating much recently. Not getting exercise had made me less hungry, and thinner. _

_I stood up, frustrated. I knew that I should be grateful to my family for keeping me safe, but at times like these I thought that it would be almost worth the consequences just to be able to leave this room. But no, I knew that this was the only place that I would be safe. I wasn't selfish enough to try to go out. I knew that it would hurt not only myself, but my family as well._

_That night, I didn't sleep. I didn't know what my father had meant when he said that he was "giving up" on me. Had I done something that bad? All I'd done was look out the window. I tried so hard to do what he wanted, to be who he wanted me to be._

_The next morning, I woke up to the sound of a hovercraft pulling into the driveway. Our family had never owned a hovercraft and the neighbors always walked to the house, so I didn't know who it could be. I fought the urge to look out the window. Instead, I moved to the top of the stairs and listened intensely. _

_A few minutes later, I heard some voices. One of them was my mother's, and the others I didn't recognize. Oh, well. I sighed. It was probably out of town relatives or something. I didn't know why I got so worked up about things. _

_After a few minutes, though, I heard the door at the bottom of the stairs opening._

_"This way." I heard my father say. I stood up, shocked. _

_I backed away from the stairs. In the two years that I had lived in the loft of our house, no one other than my parents had come upstairs. Now my father was letting—no, leading—someone up here?_

_I bumped into the table, almost knocking over the chair. As I hurriedly steadied it, two men came up into the loft._

_I had never seen either of the men before, nor anyone like them. But both of them wore the tight, starched uniforms that I knew belonged to government workers. My father stood behind them._

_"Tasha Lawrence?" One of the asked._

_Petrified, I managed to nod. The man turned to my father._

_"You won't need to send anything with her; we furnish everything she'll need."_

_"Okay, I understand, Mr. Welsh."_

_"Bring her," Welsh said, nodding at the other man. He began to approach me. I backed away._

_"Dad, what's going on?" _

_"I would appreciate it if we could finish this quickly," Welsh said, turning to my father. I looked between them, terrified. These men weren't supposed to be up here, they weren't supposed to know that I even existed. _

_"It's important that you go with them," my father said. "You'll be living with them from now on."_

_"What?" I asked. What did that mean? I lived _here_._

_"Please come with us," said the unnamed man, quickly walking towards me and grabbing my arm. He started to drag me towards the stairs, with Welsh following. _

_"What? Where are we going?" I asked, pulling against his grasp but unable to break it. "Dad?!"_

_"Mr. Lawrence, this is really quite inconvenient. Isn't there anything you can do?"_

_"Tasha, you have to go with these men. I'm ordering you to go."_

_"No. Dad, you're sending me away?! You can't do that!"_

_"Don't make this more difficult, Tasha."_

_"Dad!"_

_Twisting around frantically, I managed to break the man's grasp. Tearing out of his hold, I raced back to my father, only to be stopped by Welsh._

_Welsh grabbed me from behind, holding onto my arms and immobilizing me. As much as I pulled forward, I could break the iron grip that held me back._

_"Connors, help me contain her."_

_The other man grabbed my other arm and, together, they half-dragged me towards the stairs._

_"Dad! Dad, help me! You can't let them take me! Dad! DAD!"_

"Tasha!"

I jerked up, lashing out. I wouldn't let them take me. I had to fight back. I couldn't let them take me back there.

"Aggghh!"

The scream came from somewhere above. Looking around frantically, I saw a figure standing above me. I shifted, knowing that I would need to be bigger than a cat if I had any chance in a fight. Blinking in the blinding light, I stepped forward, ready to meet any enemy. I'd rather they kill me than take me back.

Riker stood in front of me, cradling his arm and staring at me. His eyes were wide with surprise. I blinked, looking around me in confusion. Where was I?

Looking back up at Riker, I saw him looking at me with continued shock. Then I realized why he was holding his arm. Three long strips were torn from his right shirtsleeve, running from elbow to wrist. From the spaces in the torn cloth, red blood had started to slowly run.

"Will?" I asked, looking at his arm in astonishment. As I moved my gaze up to his face, he turned and headed towards the door. "Will?"

Then he was gone. I sank to the floor in bewilderment. What had just happened? What had I done?

I put my hand to my chest. My heart was pounding, and my breath coming quickly. Slowly, I put together what had just happened. It had been a nightmare, a very realistic and accurate one, but a nightmare nonetheless. Riker must have been trying to wake me out of it and I'd reacted as if he were one of the people in my dream.

I sat in the bright quarters for what seemed an eternity, lost in my thoughts. Even though I was awake, the nightmare had not left me. If anything, it had become more vivid, my conscious mind able to supply memories that my subconscious couldn't. I thought about Riker. I didn't know how badly I'd hurt him, or when he was coming back. If he ever was. The scratches had been deep, and I hoped that there wasn't any permanent damage. He had been so decent to me, and I'd hurt him, terribly. I doubted he would forgive me for it. I didn't think I could.

The door slid open. Standing up, I saw Riker enter the quarters. He took a few steps in and then stopped. The door slid shut behind him.

I slowly walked towards him, stopping a few feet in front of him. I looked up at him.

"Will?" I asked. "Are you okay?" He nodded, but it wasn't enough. I looked down at his arm. There was still blood on the sleeve. I glanced up at Riker's face, and then down at his arm. Carefully, I took his hand with mine and slid the sleeve up his arm. The cuts had healed, leaving three pale-white scars. I slowly ran my fingers up the scars, tracing their paths up to his elbow.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, not able to speak any louder. I could feel tears start to work their way out of my eyes. I blinked them back, and then looked up at Riker.

He was looking down at me, not with the anger that I had expected, but with something else.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," I told him, not letting go of his hand. If I let go, it would all be over. Everything.

"I know," Riker said, speaking for the first time. "I'm fine."

I shook my head, and looked back at his arm. Using my right hand, I began to carefully wipe the remaining blood away from the edges of the scars.

"Tasha." I didn't answer. Riker reached up and lifted my face, and then took my right hand with his left. "You don't have to be upset, I'm alright."

"I keep hurting you," I said, feeling the tears working their way out. "I'm so sorry."

Riker shook his head. "It's not that bad." Releasing my hand, he reached up and wiped my tear away. "Really, it's alright. What's wrong?" He ran his thumb along my cheekbone, resting his palm against my chin.

Hesitantly, I raised my hand and placed it on top of his. Slowly, Riker leaned forward, keeping his eyes locked with mine. Then, ever so slowly, he pressed his lips against mine.

At first, I froze. Then, slowly, I reacted. I moved my hand off from on top of his and slowly slid around the back of his neck, moving it up into his hair. My other hand clutched his hand tighter and he pushed against my lips harder, his hand still cupping my face.

Then I came to my senses. Pulling back, I tried to collect myself. But he still had his hand on my face and my hand wouldn't seem to let go of his hair.

"Will," I breathed. "I can'- I mean, I don't think-"

"Stop thinking," Riker answered, moving his hand around to my neck and pulling me in again. This time, I didn't resist as he slowly kissed me. Tightening my grip on his hair, I pulled him towards me, at the same time stepping closer to close the gap between us.

Releasing his other hand, I ran mine up his arm and around his back.

I drifted into consciousness. I groaned, not quite ready to wake up. But I was uncomfortable, and there was something hard underneath my head. Maybe rolling onto my stomach would help. I started to roll over, and was stopped by something. Frowning, I pushed against it and found, to my frustration, that it wouldn't move. Sighing, I opened my eyes, resigned to the fact that I would have to move whatever was there, and gasped. I was lying next to Riker.

More than that, I was in his bed.

I froze, my eyes wide as I looked around me. I was lying on my side, pushed against Riker who, apparently still asleep, was lying on his back. The hard thing that I had felt beneath my head was Riker's left arm, stretched out to form a kind of living pillow. When I had moved onto my side, his arm had moved with me to wrap around my back.

The blankets were pulled down to below my, our, waists for some reason, revealing Riker's bare chest. Thankfully, he was still wearing pants. Looking down at myself, I found that I was wearing only an undershirt and a pair of shorts

I lay frozen, not sure what to do. The events of the night before were coming back to me, and I was becoming more upset by the minute. I had slept with Riker. Well, I hadn't actually had sex with him, but that didn't mean that I wasn't still lying here in my underwear with Riker's arm wrapped around me. Kissing had led to making out had led to some sort of mutual decision to fall asleep together.

For a moment, I considered simply falling back to sleep. Maybe when I woke up, this would all be a dream. But no, that wouldn't work. Plus, I wasn't altogether sure that I _wanted_ it to have been a dream.

"Morning."

I trembled, looking up at Riker. His face was not a foot from mine, and he was smiling at me.

"Morning," I cautiously replied.

"Sleep well?" he asked.

I nodded. I could tell that I was starting to blush, although if it was from the fact that we were both half-naked or that I was lying practically on top of him, I couldn't tell.

Riker didn't seem to mind, though. He wrapped his arm around me tighter, until his hand was on my waist. I quickly pulled back, more out of instinct than anything else. I still had instincts? I would have thought that I'd killed all of them out during the past week.

Riker immediately let me go and I hopped into a sitting position on the far side of the bed.

"You alright?" he asked, raising himself up on his elbow.

"Uh, yeah," I said, still blushing. "I just, uh, I need, uh, I'm going to take a shower."

I quickly hopped off the bed and half ran into the bathroom. Once I got there, I climbed into the shower stall.

I leaned against the wall, letting the hot water run over me. It felt nice, and it also woke me up. I absentmindedly I began to wash as I ran, play by play, the events of the past night.

Climbing out of the shower, I created some new clothes. Then I brushed my teeth, stalling. I needed more time to think.

Think. What was it that Riker had said? "Stop thinking?" Maybe that was what I needed to do. But I hadn't meant for last night to happen. I was too confused, too vulnerable to let this thing with Riker turn into anything more. I didn't regret kissing him, or letting him kiss me, but I couldn't let it go on. Because I knew where it would go.

Opening the bathroom door, I looked around in the quarters. Riker had gotten out of bed and, now dressed, was cooking something at the table. They looked like pancakes. He looked up when I came in.

"Are you alright?" he asked as I slowly walked across the room toward the table.

"Yeah, I just, uh, um." I sighed, giving up. I didn't know what to say. Fortunately, Riker apparently did.

Setting down his cooking utensils, he stepped toward me. Completely unconsciously, and against what my confused thoughts had been telling me, I stepped towards him, too.

"Don't run away," Riker said, stopping a foot in front of me. I had a feeling that he meant more than in just this moment.

"I'm not," I told him. And I meant it. I was through running. I took a deep breath, trying to think of something to say about the previous night, but Riker cut me off.

"About last night," he said. "I didn't mean for that to happen."

"Me either," I cut in quickly.

"You were upset and I…" Riker trailed off. "It just happened."

"Nothing happened," I said. For some reason, we were making this into a bigger deal than it was.

"So you want to forget about it?"

I nodded, maybe too quickly. "I think we can both handle it," I said.

I wasn't sure if Riker was disappointed or relieved by my ready agreement, but he quickly drew out a smile. "Good," he said. "Because I'm making a really good breakfast."

I grinned, then bit my lip. That went better than expected.

"Have a seat," Riker said, pulling out a chair. I sat down as he turned back to his skillet. "I hope you like pancakes."

"I love pancakes."

"Good," Riker answered. Riker? I almost laughed. I think that it's about time that I start thinking of him as Will, I thought.

"I didn't know you cooked," I told Will as he slid the pancakes onto a plate and poured new batter into the skillet.

"I bet there's a lot of things that you don't know about me," Will said. He grinned. It sounded like a challenge to me.

"Like what?" I asked.

"What's my favorite planet?" he asked.

I snorted. "That's the one question that I _do_ know the answer to," I told him. "Risa."

Will grinned again. I hadn't realized before how often he did that, or how it made his eyes light up. I hadn't noticed a lot of things about him.

"Do you like orange juice?" Will asked.

"Yep."

Will went over to the replicator and ordered two orange juices. As he did so, I smelled something that smelled very like burning pancakes.

Hopping up, I grabbed the spatula and quickly flipped the three pancakes in the skillet. Two of them were a little dark, but the third was completely blackened. I slid the two edible ones onto the plate, leaving the burnt one.

Picking it up on the spatula, I turned to Will.

"Nice," I said.

Riker, I mean Will, set the glasses on the table and then inspected it.

"It's not that bad," he said.

"'Not that bad?'" I repeated. "You annihilated it!"

"Let's just eat," Will said. He switched off the burner and then sat down. I followed suit, and Will handed me one of the orange juices.

"I'm sure the other ones are delicious," I told him.

They were. Or, it may have just been the company.

Just as we were cleaning up, though, we were interrupted by a summons of all senior officers to the bridge. We'd arrived at the Neutral Zone.

"I'll finish cleaning up," I told him. "You can go."

Will nodded. "I'll be back later."

"Alright." Will turned to go. "Will!" I said suddenly. He turned back toward me. I shrugged. "Be careful."

"I will," he promised.

He turned to leave again, and then turned back. Walking quickly over to me, he leaned down and kissed me on the cheek. Then he left.

I dematerialized a few more dishes, and then sat down on the couch. Inhaling slowly, I leaned back. A smile slowly spread across my face. Everything was going to be fine. It didn't matter what happened with the Romulans, or how long it took to get back to Starbase 32. Everything was going to turn out okay.


	10. Chapter 10

_CHAPTER 10_

I could see a Romulan warbird out my window. It was far off, but it was there. I knew that the other was there also, hovering just out of sight. It had been there for almost an hour, not moving forward but not retreating. It had appeared a few hours after Riker had left. I had no idea what was happening on its bridge, nor on the bridge of the Enterprise. I hoped that they were trying to find a peaceful solution, and that they would succeed.

Yellow Alert had been active ever since the Enterprise had come to the Neutral Zone. I knew that as soon as it was upgraded to Red Alert, fighting would start. I didn't want that to happen. For the first time in a long while, I was worried about more than just myself. I was more worried about Will.

I stretched out on the couch, trying to relax. It something was going to happen, I would be informed by movement of the ship or Red Alert. It was more than probable that the situation would be resolved peacefully, and that we would all make it out safely. Captain Picard was known to be a good diplomat, and I had faith in his abilities. I rose and got some tea to help me calm down. Everything would be fine.

The blaring sound of Red Alert pierced the silence as, seconds later, the ship rocked. I jumped up, turning toward the windows. Both Warbirds were visible, and they were both firing weapons at the Enterprise, phaser blasts and torpedoes streaming from them like liquid fire. From my vantage point, I couldn't see much but I could tell that the Enterprise was firing back.

I nearly lost my balance as another volley hit the ship. Grabbing onto the edge of the table, I stared out at the Romulan Warbirds. Both were well-armed and top of the line. However sophisticated and well-armored the Enterprise might be, I knew that three Warbirds were definitely a good match for it.

I steadied myself as more weapons hit. It was obvious that the shields were still holding, but I couldn't tell for how long. Making my way across the quarters, I opened the large consol that Will often used.

"Show me the shield status."

"That information is classified."

"Damnit!" I cursed. Of course, all information that I wanted, or that would tell me anything about the battle, would be classified. I briefly considered changing and making my way to the bridge, but dismissed the idea. The Captain and crew had enough to worry about without having an alien intruder on the bridge. Besides, I wouldn't be able to do anything to help.

For the next ten minutes, there was nothing I could do but stand and wait. For the first time in a long while, I was entirely helpless, and I hated it. I'd sworn that it would never happen again, and yet here I was.

I jumped, my gaze drawn to the outside window. Now, I could only see was one Romulan ship. Where the other had been was nothing but a ball of fire and flying debris. Before I had time to celebrate the Enterprise's small victory, my quarters were rocked by an explosion of their own.

The force of the explosion, or whatever it was, knocked me to the ground. In the seconds that I lay recovering, I heard the world collapse around me. It sounded like the entire Enterprise was ripping apart, and it seemed to never end. Finally, though, relative silence fell again and the rending sounds were replaced by the quiet groaning of the injured ship.

I took several deep breaths and slowly pushed myself to my feet. As I did so, I knocked something off of me. I looked down at it, and saw that it was part of the ceiling. All around me, pieces of debris littered the room. The wall between myself and the adjoining compartments was blown out, as was the wall by the hallway.

The ceiling groaned, as if a warning as to how precarious it was. Indeed, it looked like it was going to collapse any second. I gave myself a few seconds to recover, and then began to pick my way through the rubble. I had to get myself to a more stable area. I considered shifting, but decided against it. If I were to shift into something that would make it easier to travel, such as a bird, I would only be more likely to be injured if I were hit by the falling debris. There were circumstances when size was actually an advantage.

I soon made it to the door, which had been destroyed by the blast. I didn't know exactly what had caused the destruction, but I had a pretty good idea. The Romulans must have launched a photon torpedo after the Enterprise's shields were weakened or even destroyed. I didn't where, exactly, the torpedo had hit, but I knew I was lucky that I hadn't been blown out into space.

Once I made it to the hallway, I looked up and down it. The hallway the littered with debris, but its structure was still standing. As I started down it, with no clear objective in mind, I saw someone coming out of the adjoining quarters. It was a human man, and the left side of his face was smeared with blood. He was limping.

As I came up to him, his foot snagged on a pile of twisted metals. He teetered, and started to fall. I caught him just before he hit the ground, and quickly helped him lean against the wall.

"Are you alright?" I asked, starting to wipe some of the blood from his face. He had two long gashes along his left cheekbone, but it didn't look terribly serious. No bone was showing. He jerked away as I touched him.

"My leg," he muttered.

Bending down, I inspected his left. The lower part was bent out at an unnatural angle.

"I think it's broken," I told him. He closed his eyes

"Oh my god," he said. "I'm going to die."

"You're going to be okay, but you need to get to Sickbay. You need to come with me."

"I can't," the man said. "I can't walk."

"Yes, you can," I told him. "You were doing okay a minute ago." I raised his arm, and draped it around my shoulder. "I'll help you."

I half dragged him forward, but as he took the first step, he crumpled in pain.

"I can't make it," he said.

"You have to. Look at me." I glanced at his collar. "Ensign! Look at me!" Saying his rank had the desired effect. He looked over at me. "You are going to make it to Sickbay, and you will be fine. I can get you out of here, but I need your help. Your ship needs you. Now come on!"

I slowly started walking again, allowing the ensign to put most of his weight on me. I could tell that every step put him in agony, but he kept going. If we ever made it out, I planned on recommending him for promotion.

While I had been talking to the ensign, the hallway had become more crowded. Survivors from different departments were coming out, and many of them were injured as well.

"Come on," I said, just a little further. I didn't know how far we would have to go, but I knew that medical personnel should be arriving soon.

All along the hallway, people were staggering along, alone or in pairs. Many of them were leaning on each other for support. Up ahead, I saw that the damage looked less severe. We must be getting out of the blast zone.

"Help! Someone help me!" The cry was coming from somewhere to my right. I stopped, turning in the direction. A little ways back along the hallway, a door was blown totally away and I thought the cry was coming from in there. "Help!"

"Why are we stopping?" my ensign asked. I looked back at him. His breath was coming fast, and he was sweating hard. Sighing, I looked over at the doorway.

"Can anyone hear me?" The pleas were getting quieter. Whatever I was going to do, I had to do it fast.

"We're taking a rest," I told the ensign. I helped him to slowly lower into a sitting position on the ground. "Wait here."

"Where are you going?!" the ensign asked, still holding onto my shoulder.

"I'm not leaving," I assured him. "I'll be right back, I promise."

"Don't leave me," he gasped. I looked back again. I could no longer hear the injured man. I looked up the hallway, and relief flooded me. Ahead were several of the blue-suited medical personal.

"Hey!" I yelled to one of them. It was a young woman. "Nurse!" She turned towards us, and then hurried in our direction.

"This man needs help," I told her. "His face is cut in two places, and I think his left leg is broken."

"I'll take care of him." She drew up one of the hovering stretchers. "Are you injured?"

"No," I said. "Just make sure he gets to Sickbay." I don't know why I said that. She knew how to do her job better than I.

Turning away, and ignoring the questions of the nurse, I hurried down the hallway. The doorway that the cries had been coming from was one of the most badly destroyed. Half of the wall was blown out, leaving nothing more than a tangled wreak of metal. I carefully began to climb over it.

"Hello?" I called carefully, as if being loud would cause the room to collapse around me. "Is there anyone in here?" I was positive that the man, whoever he was, had been in this room.

"Over here!" The cry was faint, weakened, but it was there. "Here!"

I looked around, trying to find the source of the noise. It was hard to see in the dimmed light of the quarters. Finally, though, I spied a piece of tattered cloth across the room. It belonged to the speaker.

Painstakingly slowly, I made my way across the room, climbing over and under fallen beams. Finally, I made it to the man. It didn't look good.

The man was lying flat on the group, his arms and legs splayed. His right arm was definitely broken, as was his leg. But that wasn't the worst part.

A support column from the ceiling had fallen down on top of the man. It was now laying directly across his chest, and I was willing to bet that several of his ribs were broken. The only way that he was still alive was because one end of the beam had snagged on the side of the replicator, allowing the man the few centimeters he needed to survive.

The man looked up at me, his eyes unfocused.

"Help me," he mumbled. He coughed feebly, and a small amount of blood came up. I knelt down beside the man.

"I'm here to help you. I'll get you out of here alive," I promised him. How I would keep that promise, I had no idea. I wiped some of the blood off the man's mouth with my sleeve, and assessed the situation. The only way to get the man out was to lift the beam, and that would be impossible by myself.

I stood, looking out across the quarters.

"Can someone help me?!" I yelled loudly. But my shouts were drowned out by the commotion from the hallway. More doctors and nurses had arrived, and were escorting the wounded to Sickbay. I considered going out to get help, but realized that it wouldn't work. By the time I navigated my way out and came back, the man would already be dead. Whatever I was going to do, I had to do it alone. And quickly.

I looked back down at the injured man. I couldn't lift the beam myself, unless… I froze. It would work, I knew it would. Sandorians were weak when compared to other creatures in the galaxy. Another creature could easily lift the beam.

But it wasn't worth it. It wasn't worth exposing myself for him. Was it? I looked down at the man. His eyes were closed, and I could no longer hear him breathing. I hurriedly knelt down, and ran my hand over his forehead.

"Hey. Hey!" I shouted at him. He slowly opened his eyes. "Stay with me, here!"

"I can't breath," the man mumbled.

"I know. I'm going to get you out of here, though. Okay? Just hold on for a few more minutes, and I'll get you out. Can you do that?"

He nodded.

There was really only one thing that I could do.

"I need you to listen to me," I said. "I can't explain everything right now, but something very strange is about to happen. I promise, you'll be safe. I just need you to stay perfectly still, and not move. Can you do that?" The man nodded again. I was losing him.

Standing up, I thought for a second. Klingons were strong, but not enough. I didn't have long, and I couldn't risk dropping the beam. Aldebaran primate it was.

I quickly got in position beside the beam, and then shifted. I could hear the man's exclamations of surprise, but ignored them. I had to focus.

Putting my arms beneath the beam, I pulled up on it. It was heavy, but I was strong. Slowly, ever so slowly, the beam began to budge. I pulled harder, feeling my muscles strain as I pushed myself to the limit. And then, the beam was free. I pushed it back, making sure it was well beyond the man's head before dropping it. It crashed onto the ground as I shifted, collapsing beside it and panting. After a few seconds, I crawled over to the man.

"Hey," I said, shaking his shoulder. "You still with me?"

"Get...away...from me," he murmured. His eyes were closed again.

I released his shoulder. Then, I slowly rose. I would go get medical help for the man, and then leave.

That's when I realized that there were people watching me.

There was a small crowd of people watching me. Survivors and medical were standing in the hallway, no doubt drawn by my shifting. I carefully made my way towards the hallway, making sure not to disturb any of the wreckage. Some of my audience drew back as I approached them.

"That man's going to die unless he gets medical attention," I told them. Two nurses grabbed a stretcher and started over to the injured man. When they got him to Sickbay they could perform surgery and he would be fine.

These people knew I didn't belong here; there certainly wasn't a shapeshifter in the crew manifest. I sighed, and sat down on a twisted hunk of metal. I was sure that someone had already called security, so there wasn't anything to do but wait.

Within a few minutes, I saw some of the yellow-shirted security coming toward me. I stood up, waiting for them. The crowd that had been around me had dispersed, with some going off to Sickbay and others helping with the cleaning effort.

As the security approached me, I recognized Lieutenant Worf. He was followed by three other officers. Apparently, I was considered a threat. They already had their phasers drawn.

"You will come with us!" Worf ordered.

"Okay," I answered.

Two of the security officers moved behind me while Worf and the other stayed ahead.

"Are you injured?" Worf asked.

I looked down at myself. My sleeve and side was covered in blood. It had come from two different people, but neither of them was me.

"No," I answered. "It's not mine."

"We are escorting you to Sickbay," Worf said.

"Alright," I said, nodding.

I followed the two officers through the hallways. Not far from where I had been, the destruction was not as great. The blast must have come very near Will's quarters, as that was where it had been worst.

My stomach knotted up as I thought of Will. I didn't know if he had been injured, or if he was even still alive. No, I wouldn't allow myself to think of that. The torpedo had hit on Deck 8, so the Bridge was probably unaffected. It had to be.

Worf led me us to a operating turbolift, and I accompanied them inside.

"Sickbay," Worf ordered.

Inside Sickbay, it was chaotic. The injured were coming in at a steady pace, and the beds were nearly filled. I could see that only the most injured were brought here, as minor injuries could be mended in the field, but it was still crowded. Worf led me to an empty bed. Soon, I was joined by a nurse.

"Where is Doctor Crusher?" Worf demanded. I wasn't sure if he was trying to be rude, or if that was just the way he normally sounded. I suspected the later.

"She's performing surgery," the nurse explained. "I can attend to her."

Worf shook his head. "We need Dr. Crusher's medical ability."

The nurse nodded, closing the tricorder that she had opened.

"I'll let her know." She disappeared across the room.

We waited in silence for a while, watching the injured stream in. It was slowing down, as most of them had already come in. I was sure that rescue operations were underway for those who couldn't make it out on their own. Like the man who I had seen. I hadn't seen him come in, although he probably had come in before me. I also wondered about my Ensign. He was probably alright, at least he wouldn't die as he had feared, but I hoped that his leg was able to be healed without any permanent damage. I had faith in the doctors on this ship.

A while later, Doctor Crusher came over to my bed.

"Worf?" she asked. She was obviously asking who I was.

"She is an intruder we discovered on Deck 8," Worf said. "The Captain wishes you to treat her and then we are to escort her to the brig."

"I see," Crusher said. She drew out her tricorder, and then looked at the security officers. "You can stand over there," she said, pointing at the door.

"My orders are to stay with her."

"You can watch her from over there," Crusher said. Worf and the others retreated. However much power Worf might have over the other parts of the ship, Crusher was obviously in charge here in Sickbay. "Thank you," Crusher said. "I'm Beverly Crusher."

"Tasha."

She returned to her tricorder, and began to scan me. A frown came over her face.

"I don't recognize your physiology. Your species isn't on record."

"I'm a Sandorian," I supplied. I knew that Sandor had had little contact with the Federation, so it wasn't surprising that they didn't have medical scans of us. Come to think of it, I wasn't sure if my physiology was even similar to regular Sandorians.

"That explains it," Crusher said. "Lie down, I need to take a full body scan."

I did as she ordered, and she started to scan me. As she did so, her frown became more pronounced.

"What's wrong?" I asked. I doubted that there was anything wrong with me, but I couldn't be sure. I had never actually been medically scanned before.

"This can't be right," Crusher muttered, more to herself than to me. She tapped several buttons on the tricorder, and then frowned down at me. "Your molecules are giving off a faint radiation," she said. "It's like they're…in a state of constant flux."

I'd never heard it described like that. Actually, I'd never heard anyone talk about shapeshifting. It was the greatest taboo on my planet.

"I think I can explain that," I told Crusher. She looked down at me. "I'm a shapeshifter."

"A shapeshifter," Crusher repeated. She looked at her readings again. "That _would _explain it. But there are no records of Sandorians being shapeshifters. All of our information says that they are physically very similar to humans."

I couldn't believe that I was explaining this to her; I'd never explained it to anyone. In fact, I'd tried to hide this information for the entirety of my life. Not that it mattered now. "Most of us are. But there are exceptions."

"Fascinating," Crusher said. She finished her scan. "You can sit up now." I did so. "You aren't injured except for a few scratches," she told me. "I can take care of those now. " She pulled out another instrument, and ran it over my forehead. I hadn't even noticed that I was injured.

Just as she finished, Crusher looked up; I followed her line of vision until I saw what she was looking at. I breathed a sigh of relief as I saw Captain Picard and Will walking in the door and over towards us, followed by Worf. He was alright. I relaxed.

"Doctor, did you finish your examination?" Picard asked.

"Yes, I've just completed it," Crusher answered, setting her instruments aside on a tray. "She's fine."

"Good." He turned to me. "I'm Captain Jean-Luc Picard," he said.

"I know. I'm Tasha."

"Some of my crew tells me that you're a shapeshifter. Is that true?"

"Yes, sir, it is. I'm a Sandorian."

Picard glanced at Crusher, who shrugged.

"We don't have anyone of her species on file, so I have no way of knowing. Sandorians are known for being very secretive. Not much is known about them."

"I'm not lying," I told Picard. "Some Sandorians, not many but a few, have the ability to shapeshift."

"And you've been using this ability to hide aboard _my _ship. How long have you been on board?"

"I stowed aboard at Starbase 47," I said to Picard. "I wanted transportation to Starbase 32."

"Starbase 47?" Picard asked. "That was almost a week ago."

"Yes, sir. I've been hiding out ever since."

"Hiding out where? Our sensors didn't detect you."

I sighed. I was going to tell him the truth, but I didn't know what to say about Will. I glanced over at him quickly. He nodded imperceptibly. I paused for a moment.

"In Riker's quarters."

Picard turned to Riker, incredulity on his face. "Number One?"

"He thought I was a cat," I said quickly. There was no reason for Will to get in any more trouble because of me. If he wanted to tell Picard, that was up to him. I wouldn't. "I thought that Riker's quarters were a storage room, and by the time I realized they weren't he'd already come in. I pretended to be a cat so no one would notice me."

"_You _were the cat?" Crusher asked.

I nodded. "It was safer," I said. I didn't mention how much safer it would have been to have simply disappeared that first night. But I didn't regret it, either. I couldn't make myself.

"And for the past week, everyone thought you were a cat?" Picard asked. I could tell that he thought the entire idea was preposterous, and I myself had to admit that it was pretty out there.

"Yes, sir," I lied. If Will wanted to contradict me, he could.

"No, sir, that's not entirely true."

The four of us turned to Will.

"Will?" Crusher asked. I gave him a lopsided smile. I didn't blame him for not lying to his Captain. It would have been easier if he hadn't told the truth, but I admired him for doing it.

"Captain, I knew about Tasha's real identity."

"You knew?" Picard asked in disbelief.

"Yes, sir. I learned about it two days ago."

"Wait, you _knew_ that she was a shapeshifter?" Crusher asked. "And that she wasn't a cat?"

"Yes."

There was silence for a minute.

"Why didn't you report this, Commander?"

I had to say something. "I asked him not to tell anyone," I said. I knew that whatever I said would be pointless, but I had to try.

"Tasha." Will shook his head. Picard's gaze went from Will to me, and then to Will again. "I didn't feel that Tasha posed a security risk, sir," Will continued.

"That wasn't your decision to make, Commander!" Picard said.

"I know, sir. I'm sorry."

"Mr. Worf, please escort Tasha to the brig. We'll deal with her later."

Worf started to lead me away, but I stopped. There was something I needed to know first.

"Doctor," I said. "There was a man who was injured in the blast. A beam fell on him, and I think his ribs were crushed. He should have come in a little before I did. Do you know if he's alright?"

Crusher nodded. "I finished operating on him just after you came in. Five of his ribs were cracked and his lungs were punctured, but he's going to be fine."

I sighed in relief. "Good," I said. "Thanks."

I turned to follow Worf.

"You saved his life."

I didn't answer the Doctor, but followed Worf and the security officers out of the room.

When we made it to the brig, I stepped inside and Worf activated the forcefield.

"Lieutenant?" I asked as he turned to go.

"What?" Everything he said made him sound angry.

"What's happening with the Romulans?" Ever since the initial blast, I hadn't felt any other weapons fire. Either the Romulans had been destroyed, or there was some sort of cease fire. Both options seemed unlikely.

"I cannot tell you," Worf said. He turned to go.

"Please," I said. He stopped, obviously annoyed. I shrugged. "I'd like to know if I'm going to die soon."

"The Romulans have disabled our ship, and are demanding our surrender within two hours," Worf said. He left, leaving me with my own thoughts. We might be dead within two hours.

I walked to the back of the brig, and sank onto the bed. It was hard, and uncomfortable, but I didn't expect to be doing much sleeping.

I looked around me. The brig was relatively empty. There was a sink on the right side and toilet next to it, but besides that it was bare. One wall was made up of a shimmering forcefield.

I looked down at myself. I was still covered in dust and blood. I quickly shifted into different clothing, but I couldn't shift away the blood. Walking to the sink, I washed off my hands and then my arms. I watched as the red-tinted water swirled down the drain.

_I was 16, and had just tried to kill myself for the first time. It hadn't worked, and I was sitting in the bathroom, watching my blood slowly flow down the drain. It swirled away, running down the drain and out of sight into the pipes below. I let the water continue to run over me long after the blood had washed away._

_I looked at my wrists. The two red lines were bright against my pale skin. The doctors had stopped the bleeding and made sure the wounds wouldn't reopen, but they had left me to clean up, and to deal with the consequences._

_I sank to the ground beside the sink, resting my head against my knees. I had heard that most people who attempted suicides regretted after they had failed, but I was only regretting that I _had _failed. Death would be better than being here._

_I had been living at the government facility for three years, ever since I had come here from my home. For three years, I had spent my time sitting in my small room, my long days interspersed by visits from governmental "counselors." These "counselors" were supposed to make our lives here better, and our transitions easier, but I knew that they were there to contain us and find ways to better control us. _

_The door opened, and one of the guards came in._

"_The Senior Facilitator wishes to see you," he said. _

_My body froze, but I forced myself to my feet. The guard held the door open for me and I exited into the hallway. We made our way down the hallway, passing identical doors on the right and left. At the end of the hallway was the quarters and office of the Senior Facilitator. _

_I had never met the Senior Facilitator before. There was one assigned to every block of "residents," and it was his job to make sure everything ran smoothly. This included everything from organizing the outdoor recreational time allotted to every resident to punishing those who disrupted the orderly life at the Facility. Apparently, I was now one of those disrupters. _

_We arrived at the door, which the guard opened and then stood aside. I stepped into the office._

_The room was sparsely furnished, but every item was obviously expensive. An intricate rug lay on the floor, which was made of what looked like wood. I'd never seen a wood floor before, although I knew that they used to be common. Indeed, everything in the room seemed rustic and old-fashioned._

_The Facilitator sat behind a desk at the far end of the room. He was middle-aged, but his hair was already streaked with gray. His eyes were hard._

"_Have a seat," he said, gesturing to a small chair. I cautiously made my way across the room and sat down._

"_I assume you know why you're here," he said. _

_I nodded. He leaned forward._

"_At this facility, we do our best to make you comfortable. It upsets me that you would attempt something like this."_

_When I had first come here, I had believed this. I had swallowed everything that they had told me. But not anymore. I knew why we were here, and it wasn't for our own protection._

"_It is important that we keep the moral of our population up. When one of you tries this, it upsets everyone. You see that, don't you?"_

_I nodded. I could see that. If someone tried to commit suicide, it might inspire the others to do the same. Then where would the government be, if they had mass suicides in one of their "protection" facilities? What if everyone saw that they weren't quite the happy places that they were made out to be?_

_The Facilitator sighed. "Why did you do it?" he asked. I looked up at him for the first time since I had come in. As angry as I was at everyone here, I was still frightened of this man. He had more power over me than any of the other guards, counselors, or junior facilitators. _

"_I don't want to be here any more," I told him. It was the truth. Death was better than this. I was tried of this place. Tired of the constant "counseling" sessions where they attempted to convince us that we were dangerous, to ourselves as well as others, and that we were here for our own safety. That we could never shapeshift, because to do so would be the greatest kind of crime. I was sick of the white walls and tiny rooms, of the constantly stuffy air because of the lack of windows, and of the prevalent feeling of prison._

"_It is obvious to me that you are mentally unstable," the Facilitator said. "You are dangerous to yourself and to everyone else here. As you can see, I have no choice but to isolate you from the rest of our population here." He pressed a button on his desk and the guard appeared at the doorway. "This is an order for you to be placed in solitary," he said, holding up a piece of paper. He handed this to the guard. "Take her to level 3, section 21, and give this to the senior facilitator there." _

_I stood, and the guard led me out._

_My new room was even smaller than my previous, and I was in one of the only occupied rooms in the hallway. I had learned what solitary meant. No outdoor privileges, no contact with other residents, and basic rations. More counselors._

_As I sat down on the hard bed, I swore something to myself. I was going to escape from this place. I didn't care how long it took and I didn't know how I was going to do it, but I was going get out. I was going to get out of this place and off of this planet. _

I sat on the bed, looking out at the shimmering forcefield. My circumstances now were far different than they had been then, but they were similar enough to draw back the memories.

The door to the brigs opened. I looked up as I heard someone walking toward my cell.

"Hey," I said, standing up.

"How are you?" Will asked.

"I'm fine," I answered. But it didn't matter how I was doing just then. "Are you okay? How's the ship?" I crossed the cell in a few steps and stood on the other side of the shimmering barrier.

Will sighed. "We've taken heavy damage. The torpedo that hit Deck 8 was one of three that made it through our shields."

I exhaled. Without shields, three torpedoes could severely cripple a ship even as grand as the Enterprise.

"Worf said that the Romulans were demanding a surrender, and that they gave us two hours," I said.

"Yeah. Geordi's working on getting the shields up, but right now we're running on minimal power. We don't even have warp engines online."

"How did this happen?" I asked. I couldn't imagine the Enterprise being trapped in a situation like this.

"The Romulans ambushed us. We were talking with the Warbird when another one appeared and attacked us. It'd been hiding in the gravitational field of a Red Giant."

I sighed, leaning up against the edge of the brig wall.

"They're rogue Warbirds," Will continued. "They're not associated with the Romulan government, which means that they probably won't want to negotiate any more if we refuse to surrender."

"And that they're more likely to destroy us."

Will nodded. "I'm sorry that you're in here," he said. "The Captain wouldn't leave you in here normally, but with the Romulans…"

"You don't have to apologize for anything, Will. I'm the one who got us into this. God." I shook my head, rubbing my forehead. "I can't believe I'm doing this to you. I can't believe I made you lie to your Captain. This is my fault."

"Tasha, this is not your fault. You didn't make me do anything. It was my decision."

"I still put you in this position. Whatever Captain Picard decides to do about you hiding me, it will be my fault."

"Tasha." Will took a step toward me, as if he wanted to step through the forcefield. "Damnit!" He sighed again, trying to calm down. "We can talk about this later," he said.

I nodded. "If there is a later. What are our chances of getting away?"

"Right now our best chance is getting the warp core online," Will said. "That will give power to the shields and warp. We couldn't fight, not with this much damage, but we could run. There's a Federation envoy a few light-years from here that we could join. But there's no reason that the Romulans wouldn't be able to follow us." He frowned. "If we had a way to disable their engines, we'd have a lot better chance. But that's impossible."

I nodded. It made sense. Even if the crew got their warp core online and functioning, the Romulans would be able to catch up and destroy us. The only way to prevent that was the disable the Romulans' warp drive. And that was impossible in our current, weapons-depleted state.

"No, it's not. I could do it."

"Do what?"

"I could disable their engines." I knew that Warbirds didn't use warp cores, but instead artificial quantum singularity. I didn't know much about them, though, nor if they could be shut down. There had to be a way, though.

"What?"

"Think about it, Will. I'm a shapeshifter. If I could get onto their ship somehow, I could disable their engines and maybe even their weapon systems."

"No."

"Will-"

"No. It's too dangerous. There's no way we're letting you go over there alone."

"What other option do you have?"

"We're not debating this. It's my responsibility to keep this crew safe, and that includes you."

I sighed. I could do this, I knew it. There were a lot of details to work out, yes, but it could work.

"Will, this can work. Just listen to me, please?"

He sighed and I knew he didn't like it, but he nodded anyway.

"What we need is to be able to get away from the Romulans. If I get onboard their ship and disable their engine core, they would lose power. That would give us the chance to get away."

Throughout my explanation, I could see Will getting more and more upset. He waited until I was finished, though, to voice his opinion.

"There's no way we're sending someone, especially you, alone onto a Romulan ship!"

"Just tell Picard about it, okay?" He wasn't going to, I could tell. "Please, Will. I wouldn't suggest it if I didn't think I could do it. You said yourself, it's unlikely that we'll be able to get our warp core online in enough time. I could get us that time."

Will didn't answer.

"Will, if I have even the slightest chance of saving the 2000 lives on this ship, I have to try."

"I'll think about it. I have to go," Will turned and left. I watched him walk out as the doors closed behind him. I returned to my bed, thinking. It was a crazy plan, but I could do it. I had to do it. The hardest part would be getting on board the Romulan ship.

I sank back. Right now, there was nothing to do but wait, and hoped that Will had enough sense to tell my plan to the Captain.


	11. Chapter 11

_CHAPTER 11_

Captain Picard was standing outside the brig.

"Captain," I said, standing up.

"Commander Riker has informed me that you have a plan regarding the Romulans," he said.

"Yes, sir," I answered. I mentally thanked Will for telling his Captain about it. I knew that he didn't like the idea, and suggesting it must have been hard.

"He seemed to think that it wasn't worth considering, but I'm willing to listen to any options at this point."

"Thank you. Captain, I really think this can work."

"Tell me about it."

I sighed. I had been thinking about the plan for the past fifteen minutes, but I still wasn't sure about some parts.

"Will said that we might be able to get the warp core online and get away if we had more time," I said. "If we could disable the Romulan ships' engine core, they'd be powerless like us, and we could escape to the Federation envoy."

"That is true, but Commander Riker should not have been discussing that information with you."

"I know."

"You think that you can get aboard the Romulan ship and disable these systems?"

"Yes, sir, I do. Getting aboard would be the hard part since they have their shields up, but once I'm over there I should easily be able to get to their essential systems and it wouldn't be very difficult to disable them. I could try to shut down their quantum singularity."

Picard was silent for a minute. "I agree, your plan may work. But you've been hiding out on my ship for one week. Why should I trust you to do this now?"

It hurt, but I knew it was justified. "Captain, I know that you have no reason to trust me or to believe me, but I give you my word that I will not do anything to jeopardize the Enterprise." I paused. Pledges of honor were all well and good, but that didn't mean he'd believe me. I had to make him think there was something in it for me. "You know a lot about Romulans, so you can understand that I'd rather be in the brig here than free on a Romulan Warbird. I won't betray you."

"Hmm," Picard said.

"Captain, I understand your need to be cautious, but we are running out of time."

Picard paused, looking at me. It felt like he was analyzing me.

"Your plan might work, but it needs more specifics," he said. "Come with me to the Observation Lounge. We can discuss it with my senior staff." He nodded to the security officer on duty and the forcefield disappeared.

I followed Picard out of the brig and into a Turbolift.

"Observation Lounge."

We stood in silence for a short time. I thought back over the last week, over all the strange things that had happened. From coming on board to getting to know Riker to saving that man's life. So much had changed.

"Captain, I want to thank you for allowing me to do this," I said.

"Nothing's decided yet," he said.

"I know," I answered. "I just wanted to say that it means a lot that you're even considering it." It did. To have deceived someone and then have them trust me was…unheard of.

The turbolift came to a halt and we crossed the small hallway between the Turbolift and the Observation Lounge. Then, we were inside.

Standing in the doorway, I took in the room. The Observation Lounge was long and curved, with floor to ceiling windows that looked out over the aft of the ship. In the center of the room was an equally long table, around which sat the senior officers. The seat at the head of the table was empty, as was the seat directly to its left.

Picard directed me to the second empty seat, while he sat at the head of the table. Directly across from me was Will, next to whom was Worf and Troi. Data sat on my left. Lt. LaForge, their Chief Engineer, was absent. As was Crusher, but I assumed that she was still in Sickbay.

"This is Tasha," Picard said. "She is the shapeshifter that we discovered on Deck 8. Tasha, this is my senior staff. Lieutenant Commander Data, Lieutenant Worf, Chief of Security, and Counselor Troi. I believe you already know Commander Riker." I thought I heard a hard edge come into Picard's voice as he said that. I knew he was still angry with Will. "I've asked Tasha to join us at this briefing because she may be able to help."

I glanced around at the table. Picard had already briefed them about me, I noticed. I wondered if he had told them about my plan.

"As you know, we have a little over an hour before the Romulans expect an answer. Lt. LaForge, how are the warp engines coming?"

LaForge's voice came across over a com link. "Captain, we're working everyone down here, but it's still going to be another few hours at least before we get warp."

"Geordi, could we get more power if we shut down some nonessential systems?" Will asked.

"Sure, but right now power isn't the problem. Without the warp core, we can't move."

"Engineering will continue to work on the engines," Picard broke in, "but I want to discuss another option. Tasha has a plan to disable the Romulan ships. This will give us the time we need to complete our repairs."

I glanced around the table again. I didn't see the hostility that I had expected. Data looked merely curious, while I could tell that Troi was trying to read my emotions. I had my mental barriers up, so she was bound to be unsuccessful. I didn't enjoy people probing around in my head. Worf was watching me, obviously distrustful. Will merely looked concerned. I knew that he was angry at me for suggesting my idea, but there wasn't anything that I could do about that. I had to do what I could to keep him, and everyone else, safe. That was the only thing that mattered. If he was angry with me, well, it was better than him being dead.

Captain?" It was Data. I looked over at him.

"Yes, Data."

"I am wondering how Tasha is going to disable the Romulan Warbirds when our own ship is without power."

"I can shapeshift," I told him. "If I can get on board the ships, I'll be able to get to their essential systems without anyone noticing. Then, I could find a way to shut down their power. It wouldn't be very difficult, once I'm on board."

"The plan obviously needs to be refined," said Captain Picard, "but I believe it can work. Mr. LaForge, how difficult would it be to overload their warp cores?"

"Well, if she can get to it, it should be pretty easy. Trying to shut down the quantum singularity totally would destroy the ship, but if she could eject it out into space than it could implode in on itself without damaging anything."

"And without their engine, they wouldn't be able to power their weapons," Will finished.

"What do you think, Data?" LaForge asked.

"It should work," he said, tilting his head to one side. "However, in order to eject the singularity we must first be able to transport her to the Romulan ships. With their shields up, we have no way of doing that."

"Yes, that's the problem," Picard said. "Mr. Worf, is there any way we can lower their shields, even for a few seconds?"

"Captain, I think we need to reconsider this entire idea," Will cut in. "Personally, I don't think we should even be considering this option. Sending anyone, let alone Tasha, over to a Romulan ship on her own is reckless."

I looked across at him. He had his whole attention on the Captain, as if willing Picard to agree with him.

"Will, I understand your concern. I share it, and, believe me, if we had any other options I would gladly consider them. But we're running out of time, and right now this is our best option."

"Captain, there has to be another way to just _buy time_. If we can get Geordi just a few more hours, then he might be able to get us out of here."

"Commander, may I have a word with you?" Picard stood, and Will followed suit. They walked to the far side of the room and out into the hallway. Before they left, I thought I heard the words "personal feelings" and "interfere with command decisions." Then, they were gone, leaving the four of us to sit and wait.

I looked around the table again. It was obvious that most of them didn't approve of my being there, but I knew that they trusted their Captain enough to give me a chance. I was grateful for that. I didn't care very much what they thought about me, but I was tired of being faced with suspicion everywhere I went. I'd started to feel like the Enterprise was the first place that I could feel at home, and I didn't want that to end.

I didn't know what to do about it, either, except to push for this mission and then succeed. I didn't think about what would have had to happen to me if I failed. Weren't the lives of the Enterprise crew worth more than mine?

The door opened, and Will and Picard returned. They took their seats, neither of them looking satisfied. They must have been arguing, or arguing as much as a captain and first officer could.

"Geordi, how do we get Tasha through their shields?" Will asked impatiently. I wondered what he and Picard had been arguing about, though I was more than a little sure that it was me.

"Commander, I'm not sure if we can. With the shields up, we can't transport anything in or out. It'd be like trying to…put three pieces of bread in a toaster. It just can't be done."

"Then we need to find another way to get her over there," Picard said. "Data, I want you to get down to Engineering and work with Mr. LaForge."

"Captain." It was Worf. "There _may_ be a way to beam through the Romulans' shields."

"Explain."

"If we can determine the shield frequency, we may be able to beam someone between the gaps in the shields."

"I see what you mean, Worf," LaForge cut in. "All Romulan shields operate on a certain frequency, with gaps in between each cycle. The gaps only last for a nanosecond, but if we can predict them then we'll be able to beam Tasha through."

"Why has no one ever tried this before?" Will asked.

"Well, it's risky, to say the least," LaForge explained. "We'll have to exactly calculate the shield's frequency. If we're off by even a millisecond, the transporter beam will be deflected and the pattern destroyed. "

"In other words, she'll be killed," Will said.

"That's right."

"Mr. LaForge, how long would it take to find the frequency?" Picard asked.

"I can't be sure. If we can get the main sensory grid on, it shouldn't take more than…five minutes?"

"Make it so. Data, I want you to get down to Engineering and work with Mr. LaForge. Inform me as soon as you make any progress. The rest of will stay here to determine what we will do once we get Tasha on board. Dismissed."

Data stood and exited.

"Number One, I'd like to speak with you in my ready room for a moment."

Picard and Will exited the room. I sighed. I knew that whatever strain was going on between Picard and Will was my fault. I had to make things right.

I looked across at Worf and Troi. I wondered how they felt, knowing that an unknown stowaway was their best, if not their only, chance for survival. I wondered if they had ever been in this type of situation before, facing imminent destruction. I rested my cheek in my hand, facing the view screen at the far end of the room. It showed the Romulan Warbirds, in a holding pattern as they waited for our surrender.

"We have finished recalibrating our sensors and have determined the Romulan's shield frequency," Data said. "It is now possible to beam Tasha directly to the Romulan ship."

"We'll have to beam her into this corridor because of the magnetic distortions from the singularity. Once she gets onboard the Romulan ship, she will go down this corridor to the engine room," LaForge said. He pushed a button on the display, causing the room on the diagram to magnify. "The engine core is located here. To shut it down, Tasha will need to use this panel."

"This is where it gets tricky," Will said. "To access the panel, she'll need to pose as a Romulan. Her best option is to visualize a Romulan as soon as she gets on board, and then take their form when she gets to the engine room."

"To disable the singularity," LaForge continued, moving away from the display and sitting down "she'll need to insert a specific sequence into the panel. If she calibrates it correctly, it should eject the singularity before it has a chance to destabilize and implode."

"And if it's calibrated incorrectly?" Troi asked.

"It will destroy the Romulan ship, as well as us," Will told her.

"Once Tasha has ejected the singularity," Data finished, "the Romulan Warbird's shields will go down and we will beam her back onboard the Enterprise once she gets away from the engine room."

A brief silence fell over the table, but it was broken by Captain Picard.

"We all know what's riding on this mission," he said, "and we all know the consequences if we fail. But regardless of what happens, I want each of you to know that it has been an honor serving with you. You are the finest crew in Starfleet."

It sounded like a goodbye.

"The Romulans will be expecting our answer in a few minutes. We need to get Tasha onboard. Good luck."

We stood. Will was going to escort me to the transporter room, while the rest of the crew took their posts. While we rode in the Turbolift, Will drilled last minute information into me.

"Remember to be in Romulan form for as short a time as possible. You know we can't beam you directly into the engine room because of the magnetic disturbance. Don't shift until you're in the engine room and at the panel."

I already knew all this; I'd been there when we'd discussed it for the first time. But I let Will tell me over again.

"It should take around ten minutes to eject the singularity. Once you've finished, you need to get out of that room as fast as you can so we can beam you back on board."

Eventually, we made it to the transporter room. O'Brien, their transporter operator, stood behind the controls.

"I'm ready whenever you are," he told us. "I've synchronized my panel with the Romulan's shield frequency, so this should work." I nodded. It _should _work.

"I still wish you hadn't volunteered for this," Will said when I turned back to him one last time.

"It had to be me."

"I know. I just wish it didn't." He paused. "Be careful."

"I will."

As I turned to go, Will pulled me into a hug. I wrapped my arms tightly around him, basking in the feeling of safety that it gave me. I didn't care that O'Brien was watching or if he knew how deeply Will was involved with my being on board. It didn't really matter now.

I pulled away.

"I'll be back," I told him. I kissed him lightly on the cheek, and then climbed onto the transporter pad.

"Energize."

I felt the blue energy surround me, and then I dematerialized. When I re-appeared, I was standing in the deserted hallway. I immediately shifted into a nearly microscopic fly and flew to the bulkhead. Just as I landed, two Romulans hurried around the corridor.

"Commander T'Pel, I do not see the sense in waiting any longer. The Enterprise is crippled. We could easily take her out with a few photons."

"Lieutenant, I will not debate this any longer with you. The Enterprise is more use to us when it is one piece. Now go to your post."

One, the Lieutenant apparently, went off the way he had come while Commander T'Pel continued down the hallway. After they had left, I started to fly down the hallway towards the engine room. Well, now I knew who I was going to impersonate. The discipline of Romulan ships, regardless of whether they were affiliated with Romulus or not, was such that no one would disobey a Commander, regardless of his actions. The punishments for disobedience were too severe.

I went down the hallway as quickly as I could. I could have made better time in another form, but this one was unlikely to be seen. One of the most important parts of this mission was secrecy.

I stopped flying when I came to the end of the hallway. It had dead-ended, which left me facing a gray bulkhead. The corridor that I was now in ran left to right, and I looked down both ways. It was deserted, as we had predicted it would be. The Warbird had been in attack mode for a long time, which meant that everyone was already at their stations. It was unlikely that any more people would be strolling the hallways.

I mentally envisioned the map that LaForge had supplied of the Warbird. Coupled with my own information, I knew that I was to take two rights and then a left to get to engineering. I turned right.

As I continued on my way to the engine room, I tried not to think of the importance of my mission. I tried not to think that, for some reason, Captain Picard had chosen to place his trust in me and thus to make me responsible for the welfare of the entire crew. That, if I failed, I would most likely be dooming the entire Enterprise to death. I knew that they would never surrender to the Romulans. Like any Klingon ship, they would die fighting.

I took another right, and continued down the hallway. It was difficult to fly the entire way, but I forced myself to keep moving. I couldn't rest, not until I was done. I could fly for a while longer if I had to.

I took a left. Not much further now. My senses were on high alert, as if I was already bracing for the impact that I hoped wouldn't come. Picard and the others would buy me as much time as they could, but they could only do so much. The Romulans would doubtless be impatient after the long wait, and would want an answer immediately. I had to hurry, or the battle would be over before I had a chance to do anything.

Really, my only hope was that the Warbird would try to board the Enterprise. The Commander had said that they wanted to take the Enterprise as a trophy, although for what I didn't know. It was doubtful that they would destroy it if they didn't have to. If they decided to board it, it would give me more time. And time was the very thing I needed.

I stopped, perching on the side of the wall. I was here. I'd arrived at the engine room. I couldn't see inside because of the door, but I knew the layout by heart. Nearby the door on the inside would be panels that controlled, and sometimes housed, the secondary systems of the ship. The engine core would be at the far end of the room.

I took several deep breaths, trying to steady myself. I could do this. Contrary to what Will had told me, I would have to shift before I went in. I couldn't get the door otherwise in; also, I couldn't exactly just appear out of nowhere. The idea was to keep from raising suspicion.

Recalling the exact details of the Commander who I had seen earlier, I prepared to shift. I would have to do this quickly, or else the Romulans in the engine room would suspect something. I knew something of the discipline on Romulan ships, so I should be able to get my "subordinates" to do what I ordered.

I walked through the door, taking in the layout of the room as I moved across it. It looked exactly as I remembered it. There were Romulan engineers at many panels, but none at the one that controlled the engine room.

"Commander T'Pel!" one of the engineers said as I walked across the room. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"No," I told the man, continuing to walk. "I am inspecting the engine room to make sure that we are running at maximum capacity. I will not be requiring your assistance."

"Sir, I assure you that we are operating at full capacity," the man said.

"Lieutenant, you are dismissed," I told him, frowning. "Now return to work."

The Romulan was obviously perturbed, but he did as ordered, returning to his post. He had a battle to prepare for.

Swallowing, I continued toward the engine core. I had tried not to show it, but I had been terrified during the encounter. The chances of being discovered were high, and they got higher the longer I stayed. I brought my thoughts back to my mission. I had to complete it.

I gazed at the panel. I had reached the engine core, and now came the last phase of my mission.

It would not take long to eject the singularity. I knew how to do it, knew how to operate a Romulan computer system.

Carefully, I began to set the sequence. It didn't take long, no longer than three or four minutes. It was amazing how easy it was to disable a ship when you knew exactly what you were doing. A few buttons here, a brief sequence from this panel. Almost done.

"Step away from the console." I froze. I knew that voice. Slowly lifting my hands off the panel, I turned around. In front of me, blasters drawn, stood three Romulans. At their head was Commander T'Pel.

"Hands up!" he ordered, stepping toward me, blaster held at waist level. I raised my hands up at my sides, and met the Romulan's eyes. "What was it doing?" T'Pel asked, not looking away from me.

One of the Romulan engineers stepped forward to nearby console and checked it. "He was attempting to eject the quantum singularity," he said.

Still glaring at me, T'Pel asked, "Did it succeed?"

"No, sir. But it will take some time to reset the pathwa—"

"Don't give me excuses, Lieutenant, just get it done!" T'Pel snapped. He tilted his head to one of the officers, apparently security, at his side. "Search him."

I stiffened as the Romulan officer stepped forward and began to search me for weapons, his hands skimming over my body. He found nothing. I couldn't create weapons. When he had finished, he stepped back, nodding at his Commander. T'Pel turned back to me and a slow smile spread across his face. "Well, well, it looks like we have an imposter on board," T'Pel said. He surveyed me. "A shapeshifter, perhaps?"

I didn't answer, keeping my face expressionless. He knew that I was something, the fact that I was in his form was enough for that, but he didn't have to know the extent of my ability of shapeshifting. If I had any chance of getting out of here, I had to be able to shapeshift.

I tried to think. No matter what happened, I had to disable their warp core. Nothing else mattered. I knew that there were just a few more buttons to press, and I would be done. I would take a while for the Romulan to repair what I had done, but if I waited too long then I'd have to restart. I didn't have time for that.

"It seems that our friends on the Enterprise are trickier than we thought," T'Pel said. "They sent a saboteur."

I didn't answer. What was I going to say? I had been captured, and now they would throw me in the brig. I couldn't allow that to happen, obviously, but I still didn't know how I was going to get to the control panel. It would be guarded from now on. I would have to escape form my captors and then try to fight off the guards. Somehow.

Assuming that they didn't kill me right here, of course.

T'Pel nodded at the security officer at his side. "Take him to the brig, and make sure he didn't do any more damage. You," he said to the other, "stay here and guard this panel."

One of the officers, blaster raised, approached me. I automatically stepped back, bumping into the control panel as I did so.

"Come with me, or I will kill you," he said. Kill. Did their blasters only have one setting?

I nodded, and allowed them to lead me out of the engineering room and into the hallway. I inhaled, readying myself. It was either now or never.

Quickly, I shifted into a Terellian fly and beat my wings, pushing myself up until I was sitting on the ceiling. Then, looking down, I surveyed the Romulan. He was looking around, obviously baffled by my disappearance. Knowing that I had only seconds, I darted back down the hallway and, turning into an amoeba, slipped around the edge of the door.

Back in fly form, I looked at the room. T'Pel was still there, as was the other security officer. There were also the four other Romulan engineers.

I flew until I was on the wall close to my panel. I had to figure out how to do this. I had to shift into Sandorian form in order to activate the warp core failure, and that meant I'd been seen. I had to clear engineering of all these people. There was only one option: go on the offensive. The time for hiding was over.


	12. Chapter 12

_CHAPTER 12_

I sprang up from the floor, turning into my Sandorian form as I did so. Before any of them had a chance to react, I had T'Pel's disrupter out of its holster and up to his head, my arm wrapped around his neck. I drug him back a few steps, until I was standing with my back against the wall.

By the time I was in position, the others in the room were beginning to notice something was wrong.

"If anyone so much as moves, I will kill him," I said loudly, digging the blaster into his temple as I said it. "Every put their hands behind their heads." As they looked around in confusion, I shouted, "Do it! Or I'll blast a hole in his head that you won't be able to fix."

"Do as she says," T'Pel echoed. I didn't detect fear in his voice, and I didn't know why. No doubt he had been trained not to show emotion. I tightened my grip around his neck, preventing him from moving.

Slowly the others in the room obeyed, interlocking their fingers behind their heads. I turned to the single security officer left in the room.

"Take your blaster out and place it on the ground. Now!"

He did so, picking the blaster up with two fingers and carefully setting it on the ground.

"Kick it away."

He did, sending it flying across the floor and toward me.

"Now," I continued, "everyone slowly back toward the door and get out. If anyone tries to rescue the Commander, I'll kill him. If anyone tries to hurt me, I'll kill him. Is that clear? I said, is that clear?!" There was a general murmur of affirmation. "Good. Now go."

Slowly, the five men backed toward the door, exiting one by one. When the last had exited, the door closed behind them. I turned my attention to T'Pel.

"I'm going to let you go, but if you move a muscle, I'll kill you. Understand?"

"Yes."

I slowly released him, pushing him away from me as I did. I leveled the blaster at him as he straightened and turned toward me.

"You're not going to get away with this," he said.

"Shut up," I said. I gestured with the blaster, and he moved out of my way. Always facing him, I made my way across the room and to the other blaster.

"Captain Valerie is going to send more officers, and they are going to kill you. You won't be able to get away."

"I don't intend to try," I said, reaching the blaster.

It happened faster than I could move. One minute, I was kneeling, reaching for the blaster, and the next I was flat on my back, grappling with T'Pel.

Flipping over and out from under him, I rose to my feet, ready to fight; I was too slow. T'Pel moved faster, standing up and raising his fist. He drove it forward , sending me flying down to the ground. I tried to stand, but T'Pel shoved the blaster in my face.

"Don't try," he said. I sank back down to the ground, raising my hand and gingerly feeling my lip. It was busted and I could feel the warm trickle of blood moving down my chin. I wiped it away.

T'Pel knelt and picked up the other blaster, putting in his belt holster while keeping the other trained on me. "Get up," he ordered.

I slowly stood. Then, darting to the side, I struck out, hitting his arm as hard as I could. He released the blaster, sending it clattering to the ground. He kicked it as hard as he could toward the end of the room. Before he had time to draw the other, I transformed, flying across the room as a Sandorian falcon. Hiding was overrated, I needed speed.

I could hear the discharges for his blaster as he fired at me, but I was going too fast. As soon as I made it to the other end of the room, I changed back to Sandorian, rolling behind the panel that had been my destination all the time. Looking out to the side of the panel, I could see the blaster sitting several feet away. I needed to get to it, but I couldn't when T'Pel was firing at me.

The blaster fire continued as T'Pel fired shot after shot. I could hear the relays in the panel spark as the energy from the discharge fried them. Then I heard something that couldn't have come from any blaster.

An explosion rocked Engineering, sending me sprawling on my back. From above me, I could hear metal rending. As I got my bearings, I rose to my feet, trying to determine the source of the noise. It wasn't hard to find.

Behind what had once been a protective barrier, I could see the Romulan quantum singularity. It was exposed, the metal that had once encased it warped and blackened. It looked badly damaged, but it hadn't breached. Not yet, anyway. The singularity itself was wavering dangerously.

Looking out across the room I could see that T'Pel, too, had been knocked down by the explosion. This was chance I'd been waiting for. Dashing out from behind the panel, I grabbed the blaster and pointed it at T'Pel.

"Don't move, T'Pel!" I yelled.

T'Pel froze, his blaster lying several feet away. He looked up at me as I approached.

"You're not going to kill me," he said, straightening up.

"I said, don't move!" Checking the blaster, I confirmed what I had thought. It only had one setting.

"I've seen people like you before; like the cadets at the Training Facility. All bravado and shouting, waving their blasters around. But you won't kill me. You don't have the guts."

He took a step toward the blaster.

"I said, stop!" I shouted.

_I was seventeen, and was about to break out of the prison that had housed me for the past four years. I had made it out of the room, out of the windowless hallways and passed the armed guards. I was in the courtyard, and the only thing that stood between me and freedom was one last fence. One little, un-patrolled fence._

"_Lawrence!"_

_I swirled around, gun raised. Standing there, ten meters away, was the Senior Facilitator. _

"_Lawrence, what are you doing?" _

"_I'm getting out of here!" I yelled back. _

"_You can't leave, Lawrence."_

"_Don't try to stop me!" I raised the gun up to eye level, pointing it at the man. He started slowly walking toward me, unhurried, unafraid._

"_I said, you can't leave here. Where would you go?"_

"_Anywhere's better than here. Now stop walking!"_

_He didn't. "There's no one who would take you, no world that would accept you. You'd be an outcast wherever you go."_

_I didn't answer. That didn't matter. All that mattered was that this man was the only thing standing between me and my freedom. The freedom that I'd lacked for six years._

"_You don't belong, Lawrence." He came to a stop not two meters from me. "You don't fit in anywhere, and you never will. You're not a Sandorian, but your not anything else, either. You're nothing."_

"_Shut up!" I shook the gun. _

"_You can't leave. You have to stay here, with your own kind. Where you can't hurt anyone."_

"_I _never_ hurt anyone!" I yelled at him. "I never did _anything_! All I wanted was to live a normal life!"_

"_Lawrence, you're _not _normal. You're not even sane anymore. Just give me the gun and we'll go back inside."_

_He stepped forward and I backed away. "I'll shoot you!"_

"_Lawrence."_

_He reached for the gun. I fired it._

I pulled myself back into reality. T'Pel had taken another step closer to the blaster.

"T'Pel, stop walking!" I half-begged. "Don't be stupid!"

"You're a coward," T'Pel hissed. "I'm a Commander in the Romulan Star Empire. I don't back down."

He dived down for the blaster. I leveled mine and fired at him, watching as the beam struck him in the heart. He didn't scream as he fell back, a charred space marking where the beam had hit.

I stepped back, the blaster falling out of my limp hand, dropping to the floor. I fell down onto my knees, staring at the body of T'Pel. He was dead.

"Warning," the computer sounded. "Quantum singularity casing with breach in one minute."

My head jerked up as I stared around the room. Slowly, I turned my head toward the damaged casings, the casing for the singularity that T'Pel had hit earlier. I didn't know anything about engines, but it had looked bad. It still did.

"Warning, singularity breach in 50 seconds."

I turned my gaze to T'Pel's body. Beside it lay the blaster. The blaster that had caused the damage; the blaster that was about to make this ship explode.

I found it hard to believe that a blaster could destroy all the protection around the singularity, but I'd never tried it before. Romulan blasters were more powerful than Federation phasers, the energy more potent.

"Warning, singularity breach in 40 seconds."

I rose to my feet, feeling faintly that I should probably try to get away. But where would I go? How was I supposed to get off the Romulan ship, anyway? I couldn't remember.

"Warning, singularity break in 30 seconds."

"Pull yourself together," I said to myself. I had to stay in control for just a little while longer. Then I could hate myself for what I had done, or torment myself over what I could have done instead. I'd killed a man, but that didn't matter now. Now, I told myself, all that mattered was getting off this ship before it blew up. Somehow.

"Warning, singularity breach in 20 seconds."

I sank to the ground again. No, that was impossible. There was no way I was going to get off this ship. What could I do? The Enterprise couldn't beam me up, not while I was in Engineering. I remembered why I hadn't been able to beam directly into Engineering: the magnetic distortions. And I couldn't get far enough away in…

"Warning, singularity breach in 10 seconds."

This was it, I thought. This was really the end. I hadn't thought much about death, not since I was seventeen, at least. I hadn't thought of how I would die, which was strange considering how often I had stowed away on dangerous ships. I'd never allowed myself to think about it.

"Singularity breach in 9 seconds."

But now I was going to die.

"Breach in 8 seconds."

Strange, but I didn't feel upset. I'd have imagined that I would be crying, or _something_

"7 seconds."

I didn't feel anything, I realized. Nothing. No fear, no hate, no sadness.

"6 seconds."

I felt strangely at peace. I felt…whole.

"5 seconds."

I'd completed my mission.

"4 seconds."

Nobody else on the Enterprise was going to die.

"3 seconds."

Will was going to be alright.

"2 seconds."

I'd done what I'd come here to do.

"1 second."

I was encased in blue light. _So this is death_, I thought. And the world disappeared.


	13. Chapter 13

_CHAPTER 13_

I was kneeling on tan carpeting.

"Tasha!"

I blinked, looking down at myself. I was still on my knees, still dirty from the fight. Looking at my hand, I saw that they still had droplets of blood on them from my lip.

"Mr. Crusher, get us out of here!"

I looked up. Captain Picard stood there, facing the front of the ship. I saw Worf and Troi standing, too. I was on the bridge of the Enterprise.

"Tasha, are you alright?"

Will.

He knelt down in front of me.

"Tasha, are you hurt? You're bleeding."

I looked up at him, seeing him frown down at me.

"I killed him."

"What?" Will asked as he helped me rise, holding onto my arms when my knees almost gave out.

"I shot him. I told him I was going to, but he didn't believe me. He wouldn't stop."

"Who, Tasha?"

"I was just trying to get away, I didn't want to hurt anyone." I could feel myself start to cry.

"Tasha, it's alright. You did it, the Enterprise isn't going to be destroyed."

"I tried to make him leave," I sobbed. Will pulled me into a hug, muffling my sobs in his chest. Then, slowly, he led me into the turbolift.

"Deck 8."

"I hated him, but I didn't want to kill him! I just couldn't stay there any longer! He was trying to make me go back, and I couldn't! I couldn't let him lock me up again."

"It's alright, Tasha," Will said, holding me tightly. "You're safe now."

"He said I hurt people, but I never had before. I didn't mean to do it." I let out another sob. "I'm sorry."

"Shhh. It's going to be alright. I promise."

I rolled over, feeling the light pierce my eyes as I did. Slowly opening them, I looked around. I was in Will's bed. The lights were off in the bedroom, but I could see from the light streaming in from the rest of the quarters.

I carefully climbed out of the bed, setting my feet on the floor before taking an inventory of myself. My shirt and pants were dirty, and my shirt had droplets of blood on it. My feet were bare.

Cautiously, I lifted my fingers to my lips. To my surprise, it didn't hurt, nor did I feel any blood there. I must have been visited by Dr. Crusher. I couldn't remember much about what had happened after I had returned to the Enterprise, but I believed that, after sobbing into Will's shoulder for a long time, I had fallen asleep. He must have carried me to the bed, and then gotten someone to fix my lip.

Standing up, I looked around the quarters for Will, but didn't find him. I didn't mind that, since I needed a shower. I had never felt so dirty in my life.

I approached the replicator and, after some trial and error, made some clothes that looked like they would fit. I didn't think that I could handle shifting into anything right then; I was still exhausted from earlier.

I spent a long time in the shower, washing away all of the blood and dirt that I had accumulated during my fight on the Romulan ship. After I had finished, I changed into the gray pants and blue shirt that I had made. They were comfortable, which I found surprising. I had been wearing clothes that I created for so long that I had forgotten that real clothes could be comfortable.

When I exited the bathroom, I settled down on the couch, relaxing. Only a few minutes later, the doorbell range.

"Come in," I called. The door opened. I looked up, expecting to see Will, but instead saw Captain Picard.

"Captain!" I said, standing up.

"I came to see how you were doing," Picard explained.

"Oh, well, come in," I said.

Picard nodded and stepped inside, the door closing behind him.

"Please, sit down," I said gesturing to the chair. Picard shook his head.

"No, thank you. I won't be staying long."

I remained standing as well.

"Dr. Crusher said that you suffered minimal injuries," Picard said. "She was able to fix your lip."

"Yes, I noticed," I said. "I appreciate it."

Picard straightened his shirt, then look back across the room at me. "I came to thank you," he said. I realized that this was the point of his visit. "What you did saved the lives of everyone on the Enterprise. You showed great courage."

"Thank you, sir," I said, surprised. I didn't know what I was expecting, but it hadn't been this. Not a compliment, and certainly not a commendation.

"We will be arriving at Starbase 32 in three days," Picard said, continuing. "You are welcome to stay on board until then, or longer if you wish. I'll have Commander Riker assign you quarters for the rest of the voyage."

I smiled. "Thank you."

Picard nodded. "You can move into your new quarters tonight." He turned to go, and then turned back to me. "Tasha, you saved my ship. I am in your debt." Then he left.

I sat back down on the couch. Captain Picard had said he was in my debt. I didn't know much about the Enterprise Captain, but I did know that he was an honorable man, a man who was widely respected. To have him show even the slightest sign of respecting _me_ was an honor.

Will returned a while later.

"You're awake," he said as soon as he entered. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," I answered. He crossed the room to sit beside me on the couch.

"Good. Beverly healed your lip and took care of some of the bruises."

"I know, Captain Picard told me."

Will nodded. "What happened over there? The singularity imploded inside the ship."

"Their Commander hit the singularity with his blaster," I told him. "He was aiming at me, but missed. I guess that's what caused the breach. The containment casings were destroyed. "

Will raised his eyebrows, asking for more information. I shook my head. I didn't want to go into it right now. "I'll give you a full report later," I told him. "I promise. How did you beam me out?"

"The distortions that disrupted the transporter beam came from the quantum singularity. Once it started to destabilize, the distortions decreased." Will grinned. "Sorry we waited 'til the last minute to beam you out. O'Brien wanted the distortions to decrease as far as possible so he could get a good signal. Even then, it wasn't sure."

"I thought I was going to die."

Will didn't answer for a minute. "I'm sorry you had to do that."

I shook my head. "No, don't be. I'm glad I did." I grinned at him. "I had to save my own skin, right? I didn't want to die in that brig."

Will nodded. "Of course." He stood. "I've assigned you quarters across the hall. You probably want to move into them before it gets late. I can give you a tour now."

I stood up, too. "Are you tired of my company already?" I asked. "It's only been a week."

Will raised his eyebrow. "I'd have thought that you'd be tired of camping out in my quarters," he said. "I dunno how long you're planning on staying but if you liked the cat bed better…"

"No, no, let's see the quarters," I broke in.

Will laughed. "They're nice, you'll like them."

"I'm sure I will."

The next few days were some of the best of my life. I no longer was confined to my quarters. Actually, I now had the run of the ship, excluding some areas such as Engineering and the Holodecks. Will gave me a tour of the ship, which I now saw was incredibly beautiful. It had forty-two decks, and over a thousand residents. It had an arboretum, gym, and even a school for the children of the officers. I realized that the Enterprise was a moving community, where they lived amongst the stars instead of on the ground.

It was amazing, and beautiful. So many different people, so many different races, all with different beliefs and histories, living and working together. It wasn't that I hadn't thought that this was possible, for I had worked and stowed away on ships with similar circumstances, but I had never experiences it firsthand. I had never been a part of it before. And I found that I loved it.

Four days after my return to the Enterprise, I went to Ten-Forward to eat lunch. After getting a drink from the counter, I went and sat at an empty table, staring out at the stars as we passed them by.

"Do you mind if I join you?" I looked up. Counselor Troi was standing on the other side of the table.

"No. Please, sit down." She nodded, and pulled out a chair.

"I've been meaning to speak with you," Troi said, resting her arms on the table. "Is this a good time?"

"Of course, Counselor," I said. Troi was the one person on the Enterprise who I had met who I still felt uncomfortable around. I didn't know if it was because I didn't like her personally, because I had never spoken with her, or if I was just used to avoiding telepaths.

"Call me Deanna," Troi said.

"Alright." I said. "What was it you wanted to talk about?"

"Actually, I thought you might want to talk," Deanna said.

I shook my head. "I don't need a counselor," I said. I'd had enough of them when I was on Sandor.

"Do you need a friend?"

I looked up from my drink at her. She looked sincere, but she still hadn't lost that patronizing voice that counselors always seem to use.

"I don't want to talk," I said. I knew I sounded rude, but for some reason I knew she wouldn't mind. The conversation was too candid to worry about etiquette and things like that.

"Tasha, I don't know what the last week has been like for you, and I can't even imagine what happened before you got here. But you need to talk about it. You can't hold everything inside anymore."

I sighed, taking another drink. "What do you want from me, Deanna?" I asked. "Do you want me to open up my mind so you sense me? Do you want me to gush out over you and tell you all my problems? Because I can't do that."

"You don't have to be closed off anymore, Tasha," Deanna said. "But I'm not here to make you talk about anything that you don't want to. I'm here because I thought _you_ might want to talk." She paused, and I sensed that she was about to leave.

I sighed again. "Deanna, I've spent the last fourteen years learning to shut off my emotions, thoughts, everything. I'm getting better at letting some of that go, but I'm not ready to just open up my mind. I appreciate what you're trying to do." Deanna nodded. I paused. I slowly turned my glass around in my hands. "You counsel everyone on the ship, right?" I asked, still staring at the glass.

"Everyone who wants it."

I nodded. "So you talk to a lot of people, about a lot of different problems."

"Yes." Deanna didn't push me to talk faster. This was her job, after all, I thought. She was a professional.

"Have you ever talked to someone who…killed a person?" I looked up at Deanna.

"Yes."

"Really?"

"Yes. Starfleet officers only kill in rare cases, but sometimes it's necessary for self-defense."

I paused. "What do you tell them?"

"It depends, Tasha," Deanna said. "It depends on the circumstances."

"What if, hypothetically, you told someone that you would shoot them if they tried to hurt you, but they attacked anyway? And you had to kill them. What would you say then?"

"That you did everything you could, and that sometimes, even when you try your hardest, people get hurt. Tasha, killing someone can be one of the most emotionally damaging things that can happen to a person."

"Even if it's in self defense?"

"Yes. Taking another life can be devastating."

A waiter appeared and brought me a new drink, also getting something for Deanna. She took a drink as she waited for me to continue.

"Will it ever feel better?" I asked.

"What do you think?"

I paused, thinking. "Yes."

"Then it will."


	14. Chapter 14

_CHAPTER 14_

I was twenty-seven, and had learned how to trust for the first time. I was standing in the transporter room, ready to leave the first place that I could have called home.

"Tasha, you know that you don't have to leave," Will said.

"I do," I answered. "I can't stay here."

"Why not?"

"Because I need to make my own life. I wouldn't have anything to do here, nothing important. There's no place for me."

"We coul—"

"Will," I interrupted. "This is what I want."

He nodded. "Okay."

Captain Picard had come to see me off, as had Dr. Crusher. Will stepped back away from me as Picard stepped forward.

"I wish you the best of luck," Captain Picard said. "I hope you find what you're looking for."

"Thank you, sir," I said.

Crusher stepped forward. "It's been very interesting studying your physiology," she said, smiling.

"Thank you. It was interesting for me, too." It was true. I'd spent several hours in Sickbay, allowing Crusher to run scans and tests on me. I'd learned more about shapeshifting in the past few days than I had in the past sixteen years.

Crusher stepped forward and hugged me. Startled, I hugged her back. When she pulled away, she smiled at me. "If you ever need anything, you can come here."

I smiled. It meant a lot for Picard and Crusher to come to see me off. It was surprising. I'd spend a lot of time with Dr. Crusher over the past few days and we had gotten along well, but I wasn't used to people caring.

"I will," I promised.

"Good luck," Crusher said, repeating Picard's words. The two of them turned and left, leaving me and Will alone. I wondered if they had planned that.

"I'm going to miss you," Will said. "This week has been—"

"Weird?" I cut in.

"Fun."

I laughed.

"You're sure that you won't stay? Captain Picard said that you could stay as long as you wanted."

"I know, and I appreciate it. I just need to make my own life."

"On Risa?" I could see laughter in his eyes.

"It seemed as good a place as any," I said. "I have the feeling I'd enjoy working there now."

"You've changed," Will said.

"I know. Thanks to you."

"Me?" Will honestly looked confused.

"Yeah." I looked up at him. "You didn't know that you did it?"

"Did what?"

"Changed me. Before I met you, I was scared, distrustful, suspicious—"

"Tasha—"

"No, Will, I mean it," I said. "I didn't trust anyone or believe in anything. And then I met you." Seeing his expression, I continued, "I'm not saying you're my saviour, I'm saying that meeting you made me realize that not everyone was selfish and trying to hurt me. That's what I thought. But you weren't like that."

"I thought you were a cat," Will pointed out.

"Yes. And I thought that all Starfleet officers were stuck-up and self-centered." I grinned. "We were both wrong."

I looked over at the transporter operator, some unnamed ensign.

"I need to go."

Will reached forward and hugged me. I hugged him back, tightly.

"I'll miss you, Will," I said.

"I'll miss you, too, Tasha." I pulled back, and he reached down and kissed me on the cheek. "You're the most unique person I've ever met."

"Thanks," I said, raising an eyebrow. Then I turned away and hopped up onto the transporter pad.

"Maybe I'll stop by sometimes," Will said. "See how you're doing."

"Next time you're on Risa, just look me up," I said. I nodded at the transporter operator.

"Energize."

The blue light encased me, but this time I didn't think it was death. It was a new life.

**THE END**

_Well, that's it. Thanks for reading and to everyone who reviewed. I really enjoyed writing this story, even though when I started I really didn't think I'd even finish it, let alone publish it here. Thanks again for reading._

"_**A friend is one that knows you as you are, understands where you have been, **_

_**accepts what you have become, and still gently allows you to grow."**_

_**-William Shakespeare**_


End file.
